Casting the Wistful Sand
by OneLastBird
Summary: It's one month after the defeat of Pitch and there is something very wrong with Sandy. When Tooth voices her concern during a visit with Jack Frost, the newest Guardian ends up on a most unexpected adventure: escaping the Sandman's memories...
1. Tea Time with Tooth

**So I noticed something that was said in the movie and it gave me the idea for this crazy story. Also I didn't know if the Tooth Palace is supposed to be in any specific place, but India works out best for my story, so India it is. **

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Chapter 1: Tea Time with Tooth

Jack Frost was bored. For the first time in his 300 year long afterlife, he had friends, children who could see him, duties to perform... and he was bored.

It was only one month after that disastrous Easter when Pitch was defeated, but therein lie the problem. It was May, and spring had blossomed into it's full, gently warm, colorful glory. Sure Jack could still kick up some fun in Alaska, or Nunavut, or some parts of Russia, but to kids up there, snow and ice held no novelty.

And it was only going to get worse.

In the past he would make the best of it, causing out of season snowfalls or pestering the other Spirits, but he was more accountable now, and those Spirits were his friends. Instead he decided to visit them.

Bunny was first, and though he was much more relaxed now that Easter was over, he still didn't take kindly to the frosting of his warren. He would tolerate Jack's presence for an hour or so, twitching and shooting insults at the younger Spirit until getting fed up and chasing him off. Still, Jack appreciated the effort... and the verbal sparing.

He visited North once in that month. The giant Russian greeted him with open arms that turned into a bone crushing hug, then proceeded to stuff him full of cookies and eggnog and talk loudly about toys, and lists, and Yetis, and their fellow Guardians. Jack found this, along with the hectic atmosphere of the workshop truly enjoyable, but quickly grew overwhelmed. It took a couple of days alone on a nice, quiet mountainside to recover. He decided he'd have to get used to North by degrees.

Tooth and Sandy he knew were busy, so he didn't like pestering them. But as April gave way to May he found himself caring less and less and craving their company more and more.

He asked the Wind for Sandy's location first. The dreamweaver was currently over the Sahara, an area much too hot for his liking.

"Tooth it is then," he muttered cheerfully to himself as he shot off towards India.

He arrived shortly after dawn and was immediately swarmed by a cloud of little fairies led by Baby Tooth. "Hey girls," he said. Some of the fairies swooned, others squeaked and puffed up, and Baby Tooth simply beamed. He chuckled and held out a finger for her to land on. "Yeah, I missed you too."

Baby Tooth remembered herself and beckoned him to follow her as she headed deeper into the mountain. He did so leisurely, taking in the intricate way the tiles and detailing glittered over every buttress and facade. When they neared the heart of the palace he had to stop. A blue and green blur was streaking towards him, only halting two inches from his face.

"Jack!" cried Toothiana as she hovered before him. "It's so good to see you again! I was wondering when you'd drop by for a visit." She backed off a little, but before he could open his mouth to respond she continued. "Do you mind waiting for a couple of hours? Once night is over the Atlantic I can take a break and we can actually talk."

"Uh... yeah. Sure." He shrugged.

Her smiled brightened. "Just make yourself at home then. I've got to get back to work." She backed away from him almost reluctantly before turning around and darting to the center of her waiting fairies.

He watched her fondly for a moment then noticed that Baby Tooth was tugging on the front of his hoodie. She led him downwards, deep beneath the palace and into the painted gardens. Once he settled on a small ridge overlooking the same pool from a month before, she made a *_stay here*_ gesture and flew away.

Jack leaned back and sighed, relaxing against the cool breeze that came from being so high up. He didn't have long to enjoy the silence before Baby Tooth came squeaking back hauling a pink and gold flute that had a straw sticking out of it. He laughed as he took it from her. "You didn't have to get me anything."

She shook her head in opposition and swept her hands towards him in a gesture that clearly said, *_try it already!*_

Still smiling, he inspected the drink. It was cool in his hands and was a milky, rich yellow color. When he took a tentative sip his face lit up. It was cold and sweet, fruity and creamy, with something else that he never tasted before. "Mmmm... this is good! What is it?"

Baby Tooth squeaked once, knowing she wouldn't be understood.

Giving her an apologetic look, Jack said, "Oh... right. Well whatever it is, I really like it. Thank you."

She nodded, her face so serious and dutiful that he had to chuckle. She smiled and giggled, glad that he got her little joke.

After a few minutes of companionable silence, Jack started talking. He started out telling her about his visits to Bunny and North, and his plans to see Sandy once the little man reached a more tolerable climate. He moved on to his general happiness at just_ having_ people to visit. He then began on stories of his adventures from before he became a Guardian, relishing every time he got her to laugh.

When his drink emptied, she took it away before he could protest and returned with a new one. When she did this a second time he accused her of being as bad as North and his cookies.

He was just starting on his fourth when Toothiana finally joined them.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"No, no. It's fine."

She sat next to him and stretched before letting her wings fall closed. "It is nice to take a break now and again." She saw him take a sip of his drink and turned to him abruptly. "How do you like it? I wasn't sure if you would..."

He swallowed. "It's great! This is my fourth one."

"Oh good." She actually sounded relieved, like she had expected him to hate it. "It's a sort of yogurt drink that the people in this region enjoy... though it's not usually mixed with mangoes."

"Yogurt... I think I've heard of that. What's a mango?"

She giggled, assuming that was a joke. "I thought you'd prefer it to tea since it's cold. That reminds me!" She clapped her hands twice and a small swarm of fairies surrounded her. "Tea please," she said briskly. "You girls know how I like it."

Once they were gone, her eyes lingered on the open sky a moment too long. She turned her attention back to Jack. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

He sat forward and dangled his feet off the ledge. "Oh, just dropping by to say 'hi.' I haven't got much to do now that spring is here."

"Hmmm. Must be nice." She said this warmly and without any bite.

"You'd think that," he replied with a smirk.

Her tea arrived on an intricately painted platter. "Thanks, girls." The steam coming off it smelled strangely spicy, and as she poured herself a cup she said, "Don't you worry, Jack. There's still a couple of months of winter in the southern hemisphere, even if it is milder. And, you've got your mountain communities. Some of them never loose their snow. And I'm sure you'll find some sort of niche to fill your time in the summers. You'll be fine."

He smiled and said, "Thanks."

She sipped at her tea. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

Jack was about to say 'no,' but his eyes were drawn to the pond, to the conversation he once had with her there. "Do you remember when you told me we were all someone before we were chosen?"

She set her tea down and nodded, having an inkling of where this was going.

"I remember who I was..." His voice was small, and far away.

Her smile turned sad and she took his hand, giving it a small squeeze. "I know."

He looked at her confused. "You do?"

"I created each of my fairies from a part of myself, so they share a deep connection with me. The one you call Baby Tooth," she took a deep breath, "she was with you in the Arctic. She told me what happened." She turned to him then, her mouth set in a line and her brow furrowed in sadness. "I never did thank you for that, or apologize for-"

"It's alright!" he cut her off loudly. "It's... really, it's fine. Everyone was shaken over Sandy, and Easter. I understand."

Her smile was small, but at least it was there. "So, you saved your sister?"

"Yeah. I was just a country boy, never been further then the forest surrounding my village, and I spent most of my childhood shepherding sheep and playing tricks on my little sister. One winter we went skating, but the ice was thin. I saved her, and I fell through instead." Tooth took his hand again. "It was such a short and uneventful time. What's 15 years compared to 300, right? It shouldn't mean this much to me."

She squeezed harder, drawing him out of his thoughts. "Of _course _it should, Jack. Remembering who we were in life is remembering our humanity. It's remembering what we protect and why."

Jack nodded, satisfying her enough to remove her hand from his. The silence between them was a little awkward, so without thinking he blurted, "What were you like before?"

He immediately realized what he just said, what he was asking and how painful it could potentially be for her. His eyes widened and he gasped. "Wait! Sorry, you don't have to answer that."

But she was smiling again. "It's okay. I guess I was like you, living the simple life. I grew up not far from here actually, a bright eyed little girl who had a happy childhood and then grew into a young woman and got married to an important man in our tribe. I was the youngest of his 7 wives."

Unfortunately as she said this, Jack was taking a sip of his beverage and immediately began choking on it.

Instead of acting surprised by his reaction she actually laughed at him. "Come on, now. This was over three-thousand years ago. That kind of thing was perfectly normal."

This only made him splutter worse. "Three... three-_thousand?!" _he managed to cough."You're _that _old?!"

Her feathers flattened, her eyes lidded, and she frowned at him cooly. _"Did you just call me old?"_

Sensing danger he sat up with his spine straight. "No! No, I wouldn't ever..."

He noticed that her shoulders were shaking and she was biting her lip to keep from grinning, and he relaxed. "You're teasing me."

She started laughing again.

"So... you just made that stuff up, right?"

Calming down she said, "Of course not. I wouldn't lie_, _but your _face! _I just had to have a little fun."

"But that's my thing..." he mock pouted.

She giggled. "Anyways, nothing like this," she swept an arm out to indicate the palace, "existed yet. There was no kingdoms, but we were a strong tribe, and we lived well. I had children... three of them, and then there were the children of the other wives. So many kids my life, and I loved every one of them. When my youngest lost his first tooth he started to cry. We threw baby teeth at the sky back then and he wanted to know why he had to throw a part of himself away, why he couldn't just keep it. I didn't know what to say, so I made up a story. I told him that all his best memories were in his tooth, and when he threw it into the sky, a hummingbird would catch it and carry it into the sun where it would be kept safe in case he ever needed to remember."

"I can see why you became the Tooth Fairy, of all things."

She grinned and continued. "That harmless little story spread through our children, and then through the entire tribe." Her smile suddenly dropped away. "There was a drought, and it caused a war with our neighbors. We were attacked in the night. I woke the kids and led them out of the settlement. I told them to keep running, to follow the rest of the tribe, and then there was a terrible pain and I fell."

There was a quiet pause which allowed Jack to exhale the breath he was holding. Not sure of what to do, he said, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not," Toothiana responded cheerfully. "When I woke up, the moon was full and it was shining so brightly. I had feathers and wings, and a voice that came from the very moonbeam told me I was now Toothiana, the Tooth Fairy. I managed to track down my tribe, and not only were my kids okay, but they could see me! They believed I was the hummingbird I told them about that took their teeth and kept them safe, so that's exactly what I did. The rest is history." She shrugged.

As she turned her attention back to her tea, Jack flopped backwards and sighed a breathy, "Wow..." He didn't really know how to react to everything she just told him, so he wracked his brain and said, "I guess this means that weird story about the Sisters of Flight and Haroom isn't true?"

This caused Tooth to snort into her cup, so he pretended to frown in disappointment. "Awe, that means Bunny isn't a rabbit-alien from space either."

She coughed and little and chuckled awkwardly. "Glad to see Sandy's stories are still making their rounds."

He jumped up and landed in a crouch, now curious and hungry for gossip. "Sandy?"

Tooth nodded and stared at the sky again. "He wanted revenge on Bunny and I, so he made up some crazy nonsense and told it to Katherine (you would know her as Mother Goose). It backfired on him, though. I think my story is neat, and Bunny actually prefers his to the truth."

Jack was blinking at her. He held out a hand with one finger raised and said, "Wait, wait, wait. Why would _Sandy _want revenge on you?"

She winced. "You know how rocky your introduction to the Guardians was?"

"Yeah..." He was wary now. He had crawled out of a sack, after all.

"Well, Sandy's was just a _teensy_ bit worse."

"Wait." Jack was confused again. "_You _inducted _him? _But I though he's supposed to be older then, like... everyone."

"We weren't chosen in order of age, silly." She poured herself some more tea and offered Jack another refill. When he declined she said, "North is far younger than Sandy or I, but he was the first 'official'" she made quote marks with her fingers, "Guardian. Bunny's the youngest before you, but he was the second to join. I was third, and Sandy was fourth."

"So what happened," asked Jack, eagerly bouncing on his toes.

"Manny didn't tell us anything about him. All we knew was that the Sandman was supposed to help us, and... to put it gently, his name in legend was very recent and isolated to Northern Europe. We thought that meant he was really young."

"Oh no..." Jack could now see where this was going.

She covered face her with her hands and nodded, confirming his suspicions. "When we found him... you know what he looks like; all short and round and cute..."

"Oh no..." He was starting to sound positively gleeful.

"So, I sorta _treatedhimlikeanadorablelittletoddler_," she finished quickly.

"You _didn't!" _Jack managed to both laugh and sound scandalized. "Oh, I wish I could've _been_ there!"

Toothiana lowered her hands. "It gets worse," she said gravely. "Bunny thought 'small and cute' equaled 'weak and helpless.' He even called Sandy a puff of fairy dust."

Jack gasped. "_Please_ tell me he whooped Bunny's cotton tail."

She managed to smile at that, but shook her head sadly. "No. He didn't get angry, though I'm pretty sure he thought we were all insane. It wasn't until we told him who we were and what we were there for... we acted like we were doing him this huge favor, like he should be honored by our presence. It was the only time I've seen him get that upset. He left." She sighed. "I think we almost didn't get a second chance, but how were we supposed to know that he'd been protecting children's dreams and battling fear before any of us even existed? He was so cynical and jaded. We had to convince him there was even a point in continuing to fight."

"_Sandy?!" _He flew into the air, so great was his alarm._ "_This is still the Sandman we're talking about, right? The same little guy who handed Pitch his butt?" His mouth was hanging open and he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Toothiana's feather's flattened, she wrapped her arms around herself, and her eyes developed a far away, thoughtful gleam.

"Hey, is everything alright?" He landed and placed a concerned hand on Tooth's shoulder, snapping her out of her trance.

She looked up at him with watery, worried eyes and he felt something constrict in his chest that he couldn't begin to understand. "No. I don't think it is."

With a gulp, he said, "What's wrong?"

Her wings snapped up and lifted her off the ground, and as she drifted towards the open sky she said, "Ever since we became friends, he would come to visit a few times a week right around this time of day, but since Easter... The last time he was here was two weeks ago, and he was dim."

"Dim?" Jack cocked his head.

She turned to him, wringing her hands together. "Yes, dim. His sand was barely glowing, and he looked so tired. I'm scared that being corrupted by Nightmares is having some lasting effect on him."

"Did you ask him about it?" His voice was urgent. He was starting to understand where she was coming from.

She gave him a withering look. "Of _course_ I did, but he brushed me off. When I had my fairies tail him, he caught them and knocked them out for _hours_, and I would follow him myself, but I don't have the time and..."

"And you're scared of his reaction if he catches you." Jack was now smirking wryly and leaning against his staff, resting his cheek on it.

Lowering her head, Toothiana sank a little in the air and had the grace to look ashamed.

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner? Spying on people is fun, therefore in my repertoire."

"No, Jack! You shouldn't-"

"_Aaand,_" he cut her off, "I don't care about getting in trouble. I mean, even if he puts me to sleep, I've got no responsibilities right now. I can keep waking up and hounding him all summer."

She worried her lip, almost ready to give in to the idea. "I don't know. He was really grouchy when he was here. If his temper is short and you get him mad... let's just say his whips are his most merciful weapon."

With a grin Jack said, "A little risk just adds to the fun." He floated over to her and clasped her shoulder. "I've been meaning to pay Sandy a visit anyways. I'll go find out what's wrong with him, and I'll let you know."

He suddenly found himself with an armful of feathers as Tooth clasped him in a tight hug. She didn't notice his face turning red as she said, "Thank you Jack, and please... _be careful."_

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**Side note: Lassis are freakin' awesome!**


	2. Under the Bed

**Thank you Googlemaps**

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Chapter 2: Under the Bed

When he left the Tooth Palace, Jack bid himself be carried high into the stratosphere where he flipped around to stare down at the curved and pitted Earth below him. He held out a hand to caress the wind and said, "I need to find Sandy."

It took a few minutes until he was buffeted by a powerful gust that carried the information he could instinctually understand. Sandy was just entering Venezuela which _sucked_ on Jack's part because it was near the equator. He would survive, but it would be extremely uncomfortable and any snow or frost there would quickly give him away.

Still, it would take him awhile to get there. Hopefully by the time he reached the Americas, Sandy might have headed for cooler climes.

"Come on Wind! Let's go!" He cheered as his oldest friend grabbed him and flung him across the Atlantic.

He stopped over Cuba and asked for another fix on the Sandman. He frowned. Sandy was quickly heading northwest through Texas and if Jack took off now, he could probably catch up to his friend somewhere in Colorado. Not his favorite state. Plenty of mountains and colder areas, but a few too many deserts for his liking. He might have waited, but he was feeling a tingle of urgency.

If Sandy was in bad shape when Tooth saw him two weeks ago, then who knows what state the poor little guy might be in now. He crossed his arms and shook his head with a sigh.

"Let's see if we can catch him before he reaches Wyoming," Jack said, cracking a smile. The Wind readily took up the challenge.

Catch him they certainly did.

Sandy was sitting on his cloud at the edge of Breckenridge, seemingly enjoying the view before moving on, and it was everything Jack could do not to run into him from behind. Jack whispered, "_Stop, stop, stop_..." as he threw out his arms to catch a suddenly reversed gust.

Sandy raised his hands as he was blasted in the face. Just as he turned around to see what was going on, Jack let go of his grasp on the sky and plummeted like a hailstone. He hit the trees with a crash and caught himself on the last boughs of a large pine, his nose frosting the surface of a mud puddle. He let out a shaky breath and then chuckled.

It turned into a gasp as a golden tendril passed in front of his face. He scrambled back against the trunk of his tree and looked up.

There was the Sandman glaring down at the tree line with an annoyed frown as he casted his sand in search of whatever had caused that crash.

Jack's heart was hammering in his chest, but there was an excited grin on his face. He wasn't afraid. He knew that Sandy would never hurt him, but getting caught would be loosing the game.

He looked around for options. Sandy was determined, and the steams of sand were too numerous for Jack to successfully maneuver through them.

There! He spotted a sleeping squirrel curled on a branch a few yards away.

Right by his shoulder was a fat pine-cone. Silently he twisted it from it's bough, slipped behind the trunk, climbed higher, took aim, and chucked it at a nearby stream of gold. It hit it's target and broke it into a soft swirl.

Not a second later Sandy was there searching frantically for the source of the disturbance, a ball of Dreamsand in his hand. A tooth with wings appeared above his head followed by an angry flurry of symbols.

Jack dared to peek out from his hiding spot. His eyes widened and his brow furrowed in concern. Tooth was right!

Sandy was still glowing, but he was pale... nowhere near his usual brilliance. Even though he was scowling, his eyes were lidded and sunken as though he could barely stay awake. He looked exhausted, washed out, _dim._

He was still bright enough to awaken the poor sleeping squirrel. It jumped up and chittered in alarm when it noticed the Sandman, and Sandy hit with his sand-ball. The critter staggered a moment and then fell off the branch in a dead faint, but luckily, Sandy's reflexes were still good. He caught it before it could hit the ground. It slept limp in his hands with visions of acorns dancing above its head, so he draped it over the nearest bough, patting it gently in apology.

With a yawn, he began to nod off as well.

He slept for a couple of minutes, twitching faintly, before violently jolting awake. His eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily, but he quickly recovered and with a frustrated sigh, headed back into the sky.

Jack followed, staying low and keeping his distance.

"Uh oh..."

Sandy wasn't continuing north, but was quickly moving west into Arizona... also known as one of his least favorite states. Jack stood on the roof of a barn, wringing his staff, watching the golden speck disappear into the distance while he struggled with himself. He really didn't want to waltz into a desert. On the one hand, Sandy seemed to be functioning just fine, but on the other he was clearly unwell.

Tightening his grip on the ancient wood, Jack raced to catch up.

* * *

Something was up in Nevada.

For three turns of the Earth Jack followed his friend, who crisscrossed countries, continents, and entire hemispheres seemingly at a whim. He learned that Sandy could spread his dream sand across an entire time-zone in a matter of minutes. He then spent the rest of his time lingering over random cities and landmarks before he had to move on.

He was fast as well. Apparently he was above such petty things as wind resistance, gravity, or the sound barrier. When finished in an area, he would transform his cloud of sand into something random (Jack saw a bird, a rocket ship, several types of fish, a dragon, and a dog-sled team before loosing track) and ride it off so fast that Jack was having trouble keeping up. He found it humorous that a tiny man riding a goldfish could probably outstrip a fighter jet.

He'd definitely have to set up a proper race someday.

And now they were over Nevada again. In three rotations Sandy never stopped at the same place twice... with one exception.

Every pass, without fail, he headed for a dusty ghost town in Nevada.

The first time, Jack was surprised to find the desert fairly comfortable. The cold, dry night wasn't ideal, but it was actually much better then he expected. He was forced to keep a greater distance due to the lack of cover, and so followed the Wind's guidance rather then his eyes.

Suddenly the Wind came billowing back to him with strange news: Sandy was on the ground.

Jack rushed ahead and flattened himself against the flaking boards of an abandoned shop to avoid being seen. Carefully he peeked around the corner.

Sandy was just standing there.

There were only five buildings and the ruins of a couple of others, and Sandy had picked one - a house - to stare at. His hands were raised to his chest, shoulders hunched, and face nervous and conflicted.

This was with good reason. The house was sagging; it's windows broken and dark. The front door was hanging off its hinges like a single crooked tooth, and the image of a frightening old trapper who may have been from Jack's still fuzzy past came unbidden to the young spirit's mind.

The Wind blew through, causing wood to groan and shutters to snap. Jack shivered. This place gave _him _the chills, and that's saying something.

Sandy moved on and Jack put it out of his mind... until the next night when they stopped there again.

This time there was a truck parked next to one of the ruins and a group of three young men were just starting to explore with flashlights. Sandy didn't seem to notice them. They were too old to see him anyways.

To Jack, most of their conversation was inane babble about cell phone reception and GPS that meant nothing to him, but then something caught his interest.

"Oh man, I really wish we'd come here during the day."

"Why? Scared the Boogieman'll get you?"

"Shut up!"

"How'd you find this place, anyway?"

"Some website. It's supposed to be _haunted_ or something. _Ooooooooo..."_

"Seriously, _shut up!"_

Jack frowned as a thought occurred to him. People knew about this place and were afraid of it. That would make it a perfect hideout for Pitch.

But why would Sandy be so interested? And why wouldn't he tell the other Guardians?

The young men were still wandering around when the two spirits left.

Now it was the third pass; the third time stopping in the eerie ghost town, and Jack had no more doubt that it held a connection to whatever was wrong with his friend. He turned it over in his mind. _Could _it be Pitch? Maybe it was some errant nightmares, or even something older? Jack sometimes heard the word 'Fearling' whispered by the other spirits... terrible ancient horrors that had long ago been vanquished, but that Pitch was rumored to be in touch with.

He was so lost in thought that the Wind had to practically slap him in the face to get his attention.

"_What?!" _he whispered sharply.

He was turned around by the breeze on time to see Sandy disappear into the house.

"Oh crap..."

In two quick bounds he was at the door. Sandy had vanished and the darkness before him looked like a solid wall. When he stretched his hand towards it he half expected to feel sand, but no... there was nothing but empty air and shadows.

He jumped back when the house gave a sudden metallic growl.

"Sandy!" His game now forgotten, Jack blasted the door open and ran inside. His staff provided a glow that he could search for his friend by, and in one of the back rooms he found something that filled him with dread.

A rusty metal bed frame stood in the middle of the room. Track marks in the dust indicated that it was recently moved. By the wall where it used to be was a hole, its depths black despite the moonbeam that was shining on it from an empty window-frame as though to say, *_this way.*_

Jack looked up at the moon. "You're worried too, huh?"

Without hesitation he dropped down into the darkness.

* * *

When he landed in Pitch's shadowy realm he stopped and looked around, hoping to spot a golden glow near by. No such luck.

"Sandy!" he yelled.

No response.

He took off into the labyrinthine cave, searching down halls and narrow passages, through caverns, and over bridges.

Just when he was beginning to give up, something warm and stinging wrapped around his ankle and dragged him off his feet. He landed on his stomach and pushed down, throwing himself back into the Wind's embrace. He twisted around in the air, staff ready to freeze his attacker, but...

"Sandy..."

On the other side of the small, open area was the Sandman.

And if his crossed arms, tapping foot, and tight scowl were any proof, he was _pissed._

"Uh... ah, ha, ha! Fancy running into you here!" Jack bluffed as he tentatively touched down on the stone floor. That look wasn't as heated as the one Sandy had given Pitch, but it was close enough to make Jack nervous. "It's weird, right?"

Sandy's glare darkened and a question mark appeared above his head. He jabbed a finger in Jack's direction, then held his hand out to the side to indicate the area. His meaning was clear.

_*What the _hell _are you doing here?*_

"What's that?" Jack said with a fake confused smile.

Sandy repeated the gesture forcefully enough to cause sand to fly up off his arm.

This didn't escape Jack's notice, but he was more concerned with keeping Sandy from chewing him out.

"I'm looking for Pitch," he said. "I found one of his holes under a bed and thought I'd make sure he wasn't up to anything."

The Sandman was not impressed. He made a little figure above his head that was dancing around with its pants on fire. He slowly followed it with a winged tooth and a snowflake next to each other, and then a tiny version of him, a tree, and a tiny Jack hiding behind the tree.

"Alright, alright." Jack held his hands up in placation. "You caught me. But Tooth was worried, and she has every right to be. Look around you Sandy! You're in the middle of Pitch's lair, and if I didn't follow you, you'd be alone right now!"

Sandy shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Symbols were flashing above his head far too quickly.

Jack ignored them. "And no offense, but you do _not _look like you're up to a fight. In fact you look awful. Your sand..." He stepped forward and knelt in front of Sandy to scoop up some of the sand that was starting to pile up as it fell off of him. Jack allowed the grains to slide out of his palm. They were as lifeless and dull as normal beach sand.

Sandy was staring at him now with a softer expression.

The possible meaning hit Jack hard. He gasped, grabbed Sandy around the arms, and jumped up. "You're not dying, are you?!" he demanded, giving his friend a shake.

Eyes wide, Sandy took a moment to recover before he scrunched his face up and shook his head.

Jack relaxed and let him go. "Oh good. Um... sorry."

Sandy cocked an eyebrow at him, but gave him a thumbs up.

"Is it Pitch?"

Drawing in a breath and furrowing his brow, he cast his eyes downward and shook his head more slowly this time. He offered a few more symbols in explanation.

"I don't understand."

He looked up at Jack, but then his eyes narrowed and he spun around. A pair of Nightmares were watching them from the shadows.

His whips were out in an instant. The first Mare was split with a quick snap and exploded into gold sand, but the second managed to get away.

"Sandy wait."

Sandy summoned his cloud and went after it.

"Sandy!" Jack gave chase as well.

Even though the creature was quickly out of sight, the Sandman was still able to follow. It led them into the vast central chamber where they needed to stop and take stock of what they were seeing.

The fleeing Nightmare regarded them briefly before leaping into the giant, whirling torrent of black sand that dominated the chamber.

"I didn't think there were still so many," said Jack. "Is Pitch doing this?"

Sandy frowned and shook his head. He pointed at the bottom of the dark hurricane where snatches of a crumpled figure could be seen on the floor. He held out his hands and formed a sand-Pitch asleep on a pillow, while the closest approximation of a Nightmare he could make frolicked above the villain's head.

"They're _still _attacking him?!" Jack staggered back and ran a hand through his hair. "He's been like that for a _month_?! That's horrible!"

Sandy was giving him a look that he couldn't interpret.

"You didn't know about this, did you?"

He got a shake of the head as a response, followed by a bed with three Nightmares circling beneath it.

"You only knew about the Nightmares?"

A nod.

With a sigh, Jack dropped down to the very edge of the mass of black sand and held a hand out to it, just short of touching. He could feel the fear gnawing at him, trying to seep into his heart. "No one deserves this." His grip tightened on his staff. "Maybe I can..." He raised it, ready to give the sand a blast of frost, but something grabbed him from behind and yanked him away.

He fell on his back with an 'ooph,' and stared up to find Sandy floating over him, looking cross once more. "What? We can't just leave him like this."

There was that strange expression again. Sandy flicked him on the nose and then bounced over to the black cloud.

Jack sat up and watched as the Sandman stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them before plunging them into the swirl of Nightmares. He cinched his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and tensed as though in pain. At first only a small line of gold began to appear, but slowly it spread, swallowing the black and growing brighter until it was blinding. Like shattering glass it dispersed, and like mist it faded.

The Boogieman himself was left curled into a fetal position on the cold stone. Sandy leaned over him with sad eyes and gently ran a hand over Pitch's brow and hair.

"Is he going to be okay?"

Sandy retracted his hand as though burned, and backed fearfully away from Jack. He was no longer floating, but stumbling. Suddenly dizzy he stopped.

"What's wrong? Was it too much?"

He closed his eyes and bent over, his hands suddenly pressing against his temples.

"Are you all right?"

He looked up blearily at Jack with glazed golden eyes before his face went slack and he collapsed.

"No!" Jack rushed over to him and picked him up. Sandy was disturbingly limp so Jack shook him. "Come on, please be okay, please be okay," he kept muttering. He didn't notice the loose dream sand that was falling off Sandy and slowly surrounding his head.

"Wake up! Wake... up. Wake... be... no..."

Finally realizing what was happening, he placed the Sandman back down and tried to back away.

"Stay awake," he told himself.

"Stay awake. Stay..."

But it was no use. He lay his head on the ground and the world went black.

* * *

**Do not shake the Sandman...**


	3. Island of the Fallen Star

**Thank you all for the positive response. I'm just hoping it continues.**

**You see, this is the chapter where I reveal my hand (and how crazy I am), and either you folks will like it, or I will be burned alive in the flames. Just know that I didn't pull any of this out of my but. It took a lot of careful consideration and research.  
**

_***Deep breath* **_

**Here goes.  
**

* * *

Chapter 3: Island of the Fallen Star

To Jack's fogged mind, the gentle roar of water sounded like someone was breathing loudly in his ear. He even reached out to push them away, but his hand met nothing but air.

"Huh? Wha?" He sat up, taking a coat of sand with him. The sun was blindingly bright. He groaned and covered his face with his arms to block it out.

So... he was definitely not in Pitch's lair anymore. Sun, water, sand... he could smell salt and the fishy stench of low tide. Was he at a beach?

He tried his eyes again, blinking rapidly until they adjusted. He was at a _nice _beach, complete with palm trees and clear blue water as far as the eye could see. For a moment he thought he might have woken up in a post card.

Jack stood and started brushing the sand off his hoodie and out of his hair. It was strange. This place looked warm. He tested this by tapping his staff on the sand and watching the frost instantly evaporate. _Very _warm. Normally when exposed to heat like this, the frost that naturally formed on his clothes would continuously melt and soak him through in minutes. This was extremely uncomfortable. Not to mention it made him look like he had the sweat glands of a 300 pound marathon runner.

Right now that wasn't happening. It was like the sun was effecting everything but him, or like everything here was an illusion.

He jumped into the air to catch the wind, but ended up face planting.

Spluttering and embarrassed, he got back up. "Wind?"

It was there, carrying the sea birds and making the palm fronds wave, but it wasn't responding to him... almost as though it wasn't alive at all!

Jack's breathing quickened and his heart began to hammer in his chest. The only other time this happened was when Pitch broke his staff, but it was definitely whole in his hands right now.

"Okay, don't panic." He took a few deep, calming breaths. He vaguely remembered being with Sandy before blacking out, so hopefully they were transported together. Sandy's dream sand could carry them both out of there.

Without any idea of which way to go, Jack went into the forest and found a palm that was bent at a slight angle. With nimble feet, he ran up it and jumped to one of the taller trees, catching the fronds and pulling himself up. Though it should have been impossible, he planted his staff and perched on the crook to give himself a good view of the area.

He was on a medium sized tropical island. The sun was hanging low in the sky, just touching a thin black strip on the horizon that was probably the mainland. In front of him, on the other side of the island, several plumes of smoke rose from the forest. He grinned. It was probably a village, and even if Sandy was on the other side of the world, as long as these people had children it was a safe bet that when they went to sleep there would be Dreamsand he could mess with to catch the Sandman's attention.

The sun was beginning to set, so he jumped and conjured a shoot of ice to slide along. He reached the village in minutes.

He wasn't surprised to find a tribe of about 30 indigenous people settled under the trees, but he immediately felt something off about them.

It would surprise most to know Jack's level of awareness of the world beyond his preferred climates, but there was a time, when he first discovered he could go anywhere on the Wind, that his curiosity had outweighed his hatred of the heat. While trying to get people to notice him he would listen to conversations and hear the wildest rumors and stories about places he could hardly imagine. After awhile he began seeking them out, and by his first 100 years he had seen most of the world.

With every confidence that the random islanders had never heard of Jack Frost he stepped amongst them. It only took minutes to decide he had never come across a group of people like this. They had medium-brown skin and slightly darker, straight, wiry hair. They sat around their fires and conversed in a language he couldn't recognize. It was unlike anything he ever heard before, and even if he wanted to learn it, some of their vocalizations would be impossible for him to recreate.

They also had many things they couldn't possibly find on the island, such as the flaked stone knives they used as tools and the animal hides they wore around their waists (from African animals judging by the gazelle pelt one old man wore draped over his shoulders). That mystery was quickly solved when he followed a group of children onto the beach. Laid out on the sand were several "boats;" shallow dugout logs that were more like large, slightly bowl shaped surf boards. They must have used these to travel to the mainland and hunt, and then haul the meat and hides back.

One of these boats was a few hundred yards out in the water, a tiny head sometimes surfacing near it before disappearing again.

Jack wore a small smile as he watched the children play. He kind of wished he could make some snowballs form them, but knew it would only frighten them.

As the sun finally dipped behind the island and its last orange rays faded, the children were called back by one of the women, and as Jack followed them he finally realized what was disturbing him so.

There was no decoration...

The kids curled up where they fell while the adults were content with simple fire pits and beds of moss and fur in leu of shelter. Everything they crafted was practical. Not a single thing was decorative. There was no carvings on their tools or boats. No paint, or attempts to add color to their world.

Jack had _never _seen a group of people who didn't have some sort of self expression. Perhaps they were doing it on a level he didn't understand?

It was getting late. The children were all asleep now, but there was no sign of gold in the sky.

With a sigh, Jack stood and moved away from the tribe. He would have to wait for one of the kids to loose a tooth, or walk to the mainland and find a way to contact Bunny or North. At the moment, though, he was filled with worry for Sandy and confusion about the situation, and the moon was full and beckoning.

Swing his staff, he walked across the beach and onto the water towards Manny's comforting light. The ocean was warm. At each step, when he lifted his foot, the ice that supported him vanished. He looked down to watch this phenomenon, but found his attention drawn elsewhere.

With the water so still, and the moon's light just right, he could see the world that swam beneath him in its full glory.

The little island must have formed on top of a reef, for before him was a rainbow of coral and millions of glittering tropical fish. He spun in place, marveling at this wonder. It was as though these waters were completely untouched by the fishing industry or pollution. When a group of manta rays passed right under his feet, he laughed and ran after them.

Soon both the reef and the rays dropped away beyond the light's ability to penetrate.

Jack was not far from the lone swimmer he spotted earlier. It was a young man, physically about a couple of years older then Jack. He was sitting sideways on his boat, with his legs in the water and his hands braced on his knees. There was a nice haul of shellfish on the wood next to him and he looked to be enjoying a quiet moment before heading back to the island with his catch.

Jack walked up behind him and stopped. The islander was looking up at the sky with his head cocked to one side, so Jack looked up as well, wondering what he was staring at so quizzically. An avid stargazer himself, Jack quickly picked out the disparity in the night sky: to the left of the moon was a pulsating light that was too big and bright to be a star, and in the wrong spot to be Venus. A comet maybe? "That's odd."

He got the shock of his life when the islander's head snapped his direction. There was only a brief impression of wide brown eyes before the poor man gave a terrified yell and toppled flailing into in the water.

"Wait, you can see me?"

Once he coughed out enough sea water he treaded backwards away from Jack, his fear quickly turning into anger. He started shouting rapidly in his strange language. Judging by the demanding tone, he was saying something along the lines of, _*Who and what are you, and how are you doing that?!*_

Jack couldn't blame the guy. When he was alive, if he had seen someone with white hair and deathly pale skin standing on the water, he would be freaking out too.

"Hey, it's okay," said Jack in his most soothing voice. He crouched down to try and look less threatening. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The islander continued to shout, but started to have trouble keeping his head above water. He was obviously a strong swimmer, but he was already tired and was wasting the last of his energy very quickly in his panic. He couldn't even grab his boat because it was overturned and on its way out to sea.

Jack was growing alarmed as well. "You can stop now." He forced himself to stay calm in hopes that his tone would get his meaning across. "You're going to drown yourself."

It didn't work.

Thinking fast, Jack stood up, took his staff in both hands, and rammed it on the water, creating a large flotilla of ice.

This did the trick. The islander went quiet as he stared in shock at the apparent magic trick. He grew confused and curious, swimming up and placing a hand on the ice. He hissed from the cold, but didn't let go.

Jack kneeled at the edge and offered a hand to pull him up. He stared at this in confusion as well, then squinted up to Jack's face with his mouth slightly open. "Go on," Jack smiled. "It's okay."

He looked at the hand again, then making a decision, he reached up and grasped Jack's arm.

Jack leaned back and used all his strength to pull the man up.

Once both feet were on the ice, the islander slowly straightened out, careful to keep his balance on the slippery surface. He frowned at his savior and spoke. "_Jack?"_ His voice was soft and deep; barely more than a whisper. "Jack Frost?"

Jack was gaping at him. "You... you know my name? You know who I am?"

Though still quiet, he took on an edge as he started to say, "Of course I..." but he pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned, sinking to his knees.

Jack kneeled next to him and held his shoulder when it looked like he might fall forward on his face. "Easy there," said Jack. "You swallowed a lot of sea water. So... you speak English?"

He felt the nod more than saw it. The young man lowered his hand and sat up straighter as he recovered from his spell.

"That's great!" Jack grinned. Finally something was going his way. "Listen, maybe you can help me. I have to find a way to the nearest town to contact my friends. One of them is missing, and I think he might be really sick. He's... have you ever heard of the Sandman?"

The islander's shoulders started to shake and he was making a soft wheezing noise. Jack was worried until he realized he was... laughing? "Yes. I have," he said. He looked Jack straight in the eyes, a gentle smile on his lips and his eyebrows raised.

Jack was suddenly struck with a terrible familiarity. There were little things about the man's features, the shape of his mouth and nose, the way his hair was cut to stick up in all directions, and his eyes... which were no longer brown. They were gold.

Jack gasped. _"Sandy?!"_

He nodded.

"But... but... you're human!" Jack dragged him to his feet and stepped back to get a better look at him. "And you're taller than me! And... and you're _talking!"_

"Hmm?" He looked down at himself and started examining his arms. "So I am..." He turned one of hands over and over and felt it with the other. "_Strange..."_

"I'll say!" Jack's voice was rising in pitch. "_What _is going on?"

"I was hoping you could tell..." Sandy trailed off when he spotted the island. All amusement vanished from his face as he looked over his shoulder at the night sky. "You shouldn't be here."

Jack straightened, startled by the change. "You know where we are?"

"Yes." He turned to Jack again, his eyes narrowed and filled with pain. "_How _did you get here?"

"I don't-"

"What is the last thing you remember before you reached this place?" He wasn't yelling, but there was an urgency in his tone.

Jack bit one of his knuckles and thought hard. "We... were in Pitch's lair and you took out a whole tornado of black sand. Then you passed out and I tried to wake you... but your dream sand was falling off and... I think I fell asleep?"

Sandy drew in a deep breath and let it out shakily as he sank into a cross-legged position on the ice sheet. He placed his face in his hands.

"What's wrong?" Jack moved cautiously towards him in concern.

He shook his head and sighed, letting his hands drop so he could wrap them around himself instead. He looked like he was trying to make himself more his normal size. "I can't get us out," he choked.

Crouching, Jack asked, "Out of where?"

"_Here!" _he snapped. He then closed his eyes, sighed again, and tried to explain. "This place is _mine_... my... dream within a dream. This is a memory."

Jack's jaw dropped. "We're _inside_ you're memories?!"

"Yes," he said in defeat. "I've been dreaming about this one often lately, and I usually wake up when it hits. Let us hope that happens again this time."

But Jack only cared about one thing out of that statement. "When what hits?"

Sandy answered by pointing up, so Jack looked to the sky.

The bright object he saw earlier was several times larger, was now leaving a trail, and was heading right towards them!

Jack wedged his staff into his armpit as he was forced to clap his hands over his ears. The sound that filled the air brought to mind the couple of times he flew too close to passenger jets... if those jets were also firing cannons. "We should get out of here!" he tried to shout over the noise, but he couldn't even hear his own voice.

Suddenly the comet passed over them and exploded into a shower of fire trails directly above the island.

They barely had a second to register this before the shock wave hit them. Jack hugged his staff as he was flung across the water with all the force of his Wind's most powerful gale. Whenever he hit the surface, ice was formed that he bounced off of. He rolled to a stop the last few meters, leaving a trail.

Moaning, he slowly untangled his limbs and got shakily to his feet. It would take more then that to harm a Spirit.

By the time he recovered, he saw Sandy break the surface not far from where they'd started out and slid over to help his friend. Sandy collapsed on the new ice flow, but looked unharmed. Relieved, Jack sat next to him and placed a comforting hand on his back, waiting for him to finish emptying his lungs.

The stars were gone and the sky was dark except for the moon. The fire and smoke was slowly fading, but a single trail of it lead to the island, which was lit up with an ethereal yellow light.

Jack could no longer see the trees.

Something moved next to him. Sandy was pushing himself up and staring at the island, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Suddenly Jack jumped up and yelled, "The tribe! Come on, there were people on that island! We have to help them!"

He tried to race off, but his arm was seized in a powerful grip. "No!" Sandy was trembling, but his expression was firm. "They're gone... and you do _not _want to see what happened."

As his meaning slowly sank in, Jack sagged, his mind drifting into shock. He forgot. This was a memory.

He vaguely heard Sandy say, "Wait for me," and dive gracefully into the water.

* * *

Jack returned to the island in a trance, keeping well to the east of where he remembered the tribe to be.

Once he stepped onto the sand, he stopped and stared at the devastation. The trees were flattened outwards from the center of the island, and he could just imagine what this did to the people who used to live beneath them.

He had seen things... wars before he knew to stay away from them. Men tearing each other apart with bullets and bayonets, bodies lying mangled, dyeing his snow red.

He shut his eyes and forced these images from his mind.

There was a spot where two palms had fallen across a third, providing a small shelter. Pressing his back against the scaly bark, he laid his staff next to him and hugged his legs to himself. He stared unblinkingly forward, as he tried to process what, exactly, was happening.

He had just seen something that he was sure _no one _was supposed to know about. He remembered hearing once that the Sandman fell to Earth on a shooting star, but obviously that was only partially true. He could understand the lie when the truth was something this painful.

Sandy was probably going to hate him now.

Speaking of the devil, a pair of legs appeared in his line of sight and paused before their owner bent down and scooched under the trees to join him. Sandy looked him over with concern and said, "Are you alright?"

"_Me?" _Jack gawked at him. "You're worried about _me? _This was-"

"Only a memory." Sandy gently cut him off. "A very old memory that I came to terms with long ago."

Exhaling sharply, Jack ran a hand through his hair and said, "But still... what you said is true! I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be invading things that are this personal to you. I've messed everything-"

"Stop."

Cut off again, Jack blinked.

Sandy was frowning at him. "You got here by _my _power, not yours. This is my doing." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I only wish I knew _how _I'm doing it."

Jack calmed down. He felt much better now that he wasn't alone, and knew Sandy wasn't angry at him. They were still in quite a situation, though. "You really can't get us out of here?"

"No."

"Then what do we do?"

Sandy was quiet for a few minutes. Finally he said, "We move forward."

Jack looked straight ahead of them, and then back at his friend. "Across the ocean?"

A smile broke on Sandy's face. "That's the Red Sea, and no."

* * *

Traveling over the carpet of fallen forest was a challenge, but Jack could only deny his nature for so long. He quickly slipped into doing what he did best: turning things into a game.

He ran along one log and hopped onto the next when he reached the end, pretending to struggle with his balance even though this was nothing for him. "Why are you so slow?!" he called over his shoulder.

He didn't expect Sandy to rise to the challenge so easily given the circumstances, but the man was already passing him with a grin and a wave.

"Hey!"

They were heading towards the center of the island, where that strange yellow light was still glowing like a beacon in the night. As they got closer, the trees got denser for a bit (and very difficult to climb over) before opening into a stretch of open sand where they had been ripped up and pushed back.

At the center of this was the source of the light; a crater.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Jack.

Sandy didn't answer. Instead he glared at the cause of his people's death. He crouched low, almost walking on all fours, and cautiously moved to the edge.

Not sure of what to do, Jack followed.

At the center of the pit was a tiny ball of blindingly bright... something. It was impossible to tell what it was, but the gold light that it cast across the sides of the crater moved and swirled as though it had a pulse.

Sandy only hesitated a moment before sliding down the slope and crouching next to the thing. Tentatively, he reached down and touched it.

It exploded.

* * *

**So there you have it. The chips are down and all bets are off.**

**Please be gentle...  
**


	4. Moving Forward

**I love you guys! I can't believe I was even worried.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Moving Forward

Jack threw his arms around his head, expecting to be forced back or burned as the wave of yellow washed over him. Instead nothing happened. He barely even felt it against his skin.

When he looked up, it was to find the night filled with gently swirling gold. At first he thought it was Sandy's Dreamsand, but then he reached out to run his hand through a nearby stream the way he often did. It didn't have that familiar silky texture and it didn't turn into random shapes. It was more like dust; endless motes of dust lit as though caught in the sun's rays.

In the crater, Sandy was sitting there with a bemused expression and a thorough coating of the stuff. For the moment he looked like a tall, gangly version of his normal self. He was also struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Hey! Don't fall asleep on me," Jack called down to him.

He jolted up, causing the gold dust that had settled on his skin to surge into the air once more. He brushed the rest of it off as he stood.

Jack frowned and followed his example, shaking out his hoodie and hair. "You knew that was going to happen."

Smiling his ever pleasant smile, Sandy only offered a small shrug before climbing from the crater and wandering back the way they came.

"You could've warned me," Jack griped as they scaled the barrier of mangled trees.

"Surprises are supposed to be fun." Sandy paused to take in the effect the alien dust was having on his island; bringing the wind alive with patterns and turning all the destruction into glittering gold. "Are you not the Guardian of Fun?"

Jack stared at the scene with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. It was beautiful. Slowly he nodded and said, "Yeah... and that means I'm supposed to be the one _causing _the fun, not the one getting the icicles scared out of me. You and Tooth need to learn the difference."

With a soft chuckle, Sandy headed in the direction of the lost village. Realizing this, Jack fell quiet and followed hesitantly.

As they walked, the sun began to rise far too quickly, and by the time they reached their destination it was high above them in the midday position. Sandy was beginning to sift through the scattered, broken spears, looking for one that was intact. He didn't notice the strange movement of the heavens, but Jack stared up at it in confusion.

"Do you normally have time warps in your head?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Sandy only spared it a glance before going back to his search. "I was supposed to fall asleep back there, but you kept me awake. The memory must be adjusting itself." He found what he was looking for, but the spear was partially wedged under a palm. He bent down and started digging it out.

Jack grew thoughtful as he sat on a different tree and tapped a finger against his lips. His eyes wandered around the area. He tried to resist it, but couldn't. There was debris everywhere: crushed bits of wood, stone tools, half-buried hides. There was also a lot of dark stuff caked to the trees and the beach; blood dried by the sun. He shuddered.

"Where are the..." He stopped himself from asking. Sandy was in a good mood for the moment, and it would be a shame to take that from him.

Sandy went still. He knew what Jack was going to ask, so he waved towards the water and said, "Out there." He then went back to digging.

It was enough for Jack to understand... and also to feel terrible for bringing it up in the first place.

"Sorry."

With he spear finally free, Sandy straightened and tilted his head. "For what?"

He looked honestly oblivious and slightly concerned, so Jack forced a smile on his face and said, "Nothing."

Sandy opened his mouth to say something, but decided to drop it. He used the butt of his spear to dig through the sand, picking up whatever he found and either tossing it aside or laying it carefully on an empty spot of beach. Curiosity piqued, Jack strolled over to this pile and examined it.

Tools, furs, bits of wood, some pouches made of what looked like animal innards; Sandy was taking stock of what he had to survive on. Jack felt his chest tighten so he distracted himself by crouching and turning a short, thick piece of wood over in his hands. It had a blackened hole in the center. "This is for making fire?"

Sandy smiled and nodded.

Placing it back down, Jack noticed something about the beach that he hadn't before. The strange yellow dust was not only settling over everything, it was sinking in as well. The trees absorbed it and went back to their normal color, but the sand... it had turned gold.

Jack ran some through his fingers. "This looks like your Dreamsand."

"Doesn't it, though?" Plopping down next to Jack, Sandy leaned forward and hugged his knees. His face lost all expression and his eyes went dull as he stared out at the water.

"So, what happens next?" asked Jack.

There was no response.

"Sandy?" Jack tried jostling his friend's shoulder. When that got no reaction he snapped his fingers a couple if times in front of Sandy's nose. Nothing.

"Sandy?"

If Sandy was asleep, he was doing it with his eyes open. It was more like he was catatonic.

Jack moved in front of him and leaned right in his face, but he continued to stare as though he could see right through the Winter Spirit.

His eyes were brown.

Jack was starting to see what was going on, but he didn't know what to do about it. Taking a deep breath, he sat back and stood. He circled the frozen Sandman a couple of times, giving the occasional nudge, before a wicked idea came to him.

He stepped a couple of feet behind Sandy, lowered the crook of his staff to the unsuspecting man's lower back, and ran it up his spine.

Sandy _shrieked_!

He leapt up, his back went ramrod straight, and he did a strange and undignified dance in attempt to get the slush off his skin.

"Oh man, I have _got _to try that on Bunny," said Jack.

He turned to face the offender. "Why would you _do _that?!" There was a hint of betrayal in his voice.

Trying to stifle a laugh. "Sorry, but you were completely spaced out and it was the only thing I could think of."

"Spaced out?" Sandy frowned and rubbed a still cold spot on his neck. "Yes... I was... lost in the moment, I think. It's difficult to explain." He paused, but Jack was listening with full attention so he went on. "I'm fairly certain I should be experiencing my memories as I was, not as I am now, but your presence is somehow disrupting that... probably."

"You don't sound too sure of yourself."

Sandy offered an apologetic smile. "Memory is Toothiana's domain."

"Right... of course." Jack ran a hand through his hair. "So... do you want me to keep to myself from now on? Let you do your thing?"

"Absolutely not!" Sandy's vehement refusal surprised both of them, and he had to quickly backpedal. "You said we were in Pitch's lair when you blacked out, so it's safe to assume our bodies are still there."

On cue, Jack gasped. "That's right! I forgot! We need to get out of here pronto!"

"And you have already sped things along, see?" He pointed at sky where the sun was moving towards the horizon. As they watched, it sank, followed by the moon chasing it towards the west. It rose again and finally settled somewhere around mid-afternoon. "I'll try to fight it now that I know."

Jack's brow furrowed as he stared up at the sky in awe. "You sat there all night?"

Sandy winced, but before he could say anything defensive, Jack spoke again.

"Should we really be messing with your mind, though? Won't that screw you up?"

With a smile, Sandy shook his head. "My Dreamspace doesn't work like that."

"Alright..." Jack nodded. "So, what next?"

"I swam to the coast."

* * *

It didn't take them long to circle the island, but the still sun set and rose again. Jack's only comment on this was, "Man, you must've been starving by now."

Sandy shook his head and pointed at the water. "The reef is full of shellfish."

"Oh yeah..."

When they reached the western shore, Jack had to strain his eyes to spot the coast. He whistled and said, "You really swam that far?"

"The boats were lost." Sandy shrugged.

With a smirk, Jack asked, "How long did it take you?"

"I don't know... a few hours?" Sandy had used one of the hides and some sinew to make a crude pack for his stuff. He set this down and started rummaging through it.

Jack's smile grew wider as he lowered his staff and concentrated, forming a large toboggan out of ice. "Think we can get there before this melts?"

Sandy answered with a grin while he pulled out a pouch and filled it with beach sand.

Jack stroked his chin and looked over his creation with a critical eye before tapping it, transforming it into a sleigh and harness. When Sandy raised an eyebrow at him, he said, "Hold on, I wanna try something."

He touched the end of his staff to the beach and gripped it with both hands. As he closed his eyes and squared his shoulders in concentration the wood glowed blue and a trail of frost extended from it onto the water. Nothing happened and Jack tensed. This was harder then he thought it would be because the salt water was difficult to freeze, but finally strings of ice and frost rose from the surface. They wove together, growing in quantity and strength until they began to take shape.

It only took a minute and there was a giant white sheepdog standing on the water, its tongue out and its tail wagging happily.

Jack jumped in the air and whooped. "It worked!"

The dog barked; a sound like falling icicles. In its excitement at suddenly existing, it bounded towards the two spirits and picked the darker of them as its target to be knocked down and licked.

Seeing this coming, but unable to do anything, Sandy closed his eyes and cringed.

"Stop! Bad dog!" shouted Jack.

It dug its paws into the sand and halted inches from bowling Sandy over. He looked up into its panting mouth and got a face full of frigid breath, causing him to wrap his arms around himself and shiver.

"Sorry," Jack laughed as he pushed the dog towards the sled. "I had to make him extra cold so he'd last."

Once he was warm again, Sandy approached and watch as Jack hitched the dog to the sleigh. "I wasn't aware you could do this."

"Neither was I, until Easter. It was like something just... clicked, you know?" He finished up and gave his creation a scratch behind the ear, earning him a slushy, slobbery lick in the face.

He didn't notice Sandy's expression turn grim or hear him say, "Yes. Yes, I do."

"Let's see how fast this thing can go!" Jack jumped into the sleigh and practically bounced with excitement. There were no reigns. He instinctively knew the dog would go wherever he willed it.

Thoroughly cheered up, Sandy chuckled quietly and said, "Just a moment."

He dug out the last of his pelts and carried them to the sleigh, laying them neatly across the seat so he wouldn't have to sit on ice. He then tossed his pack over the side and climbed in.

Once they were both comfortable, Jack pointed towards the horizon and yelled, "Mush!"

The dog had to slog as it crossed the beach, but as soon as it reached the sea the water froze under its feet, allowing to pick up incredible speed.

Sandy clapped his hands and threw them in the air with a huge grin on his face. Laughing, Jack created a couple of slopes to add to the excitement.

The thrill wore off quickly, however, and they still had a long way to go. They settled back to enjoy the wind.

Jack heard a splash and looked over the side. "Oh no way!"

Curious, Sandy looked as well, his face instantly lighting up with joy. There were dolphins breaching along side the sleigh!

"Are you doing this?" Jack asked.

Sandy shrugged and went back to watching the spectacle.

It was impossible to tell how long the crossing took them because the sun chased them across the sky, passed over them, and sank below the approaching coast.

"A couple of _hours_?" Jack said with his brow raised.

Sandy smiled and scratched his head sheepishly.

By the time they reached the shore, the moon was high; a tiny sliver of it missing. The sleigh was little more than a dripping, incongruous mass, and the dog - after dragging it up the beach - collapsed into a pile of snow.

"Aw." Jack got up and went over to inspect it. "I was hoping it would last longer then _that._"

Instead of commenting, Sandy go out of the sleigh, wandered a few yards away, and laid down on the sand to stare at the moon.

"What are you doing?" Jack walked over to him and leaned in, only to be met by a pair of vacant brown eyes. "Oh, come on!"

He went back to the melting dog and gathered up an arm-full of snow. Just as he was preparing to dump in on his friend's head, Sandy sat up.

Startled, Jack stepped back and dropped the snow on his own feet.

Sandy stretched a finger to the sand and slowly drew a circle. Inside this he made two wonky eyes (one larger then the other), a nose, and a wide mouth. He went back to staring at the moon.

Jack scooted closer to get a better look at the drawing. He then looked up at the moon as well. He could see it. He could remember his father pointing it out to him, and in turn pointing it out to his sister.

"The Man in the Moon?"

Sandy angrily wiped the picture away and flopped onto his side. His breathing evened out. He was asleep.

With an unimpressed frown, Jack rolled his eyes before poking him in the side with the staff.

"GYAH!"

Sandy scrambled away from him in a panic; eyes wide and breathing heavy.

"You did it again," Jack said apologetically. He glanced at the sky as it shifted to morning. "Every time we change something, your subconscious rushes to catch up. It's getting old."

"Subconscious..." Sandy slowly tested the word out. "_Lower-awareness..._ I don't know what you mean by that."

"Really?"

When Sandy nodded, Jack's jaw dropped.

"But... but... you're the _Sandman: _master of dreams and... stuff! This is psychology 101 here!"

"Psychology?" Sandy looked like he tasted something bad. "All I know of the modern world, I get from the... the _feedback _of children's dreams. If any child has ever dreamed about _psychology_ it would be buried under all the wishes and whimsy I get bombarded with."

Jack continued to splutter in disbelief. "So, wait... _really?!" _He was starting to panic again. They were stuck in Sandy's mind which, apparently, Sandy knew nothing about. Deep breath. Let it out slow. "Okay... what _do _you know?"

Sandy thought about it. "_Well... _I can tell you all about dinosaurs, transforming robots, unicorns, princesses. And there are these games with little monsters that you catch, but don't ever mention them to North or he will drone on for _ages _about type advantages and..."

He kept cheerfully talking even though his audience stopped listening.

Jack couldn't believe this! They were stuck in someone's memories, their bodies were lying in the Boogieman's lair, and Sandy was _rambling... _

"... I _told _him to make more Furbies, but was he going to listen? Of _course _not. What do I know about the wishes of children? I only give them _dreams..."_

"Whoa, whoa. Sandy, you need to stop."

Sandy trailed off and blinked at him, looking slightly dazed.

"Jeeze," Jack chuckled nervously. "I didn't peg you for a chatterbox."

Sandy's brow rose. "And how would you know? You don't understand my symbols yet."

"_Yet?"_

That smirk was a little dangerous. "You _are _going to learn them."

Jack stiffened, then relaxed. "Of course I am, but right now we need to be moving along."

"I know." Sandy stood and collected his things. They had been mysteriously strewn about; likely a result of the memory trying to correct itself. "I don't know how..."

Jack almost didn't hear that, but once he did he sighed and fell into thought. He realized if this was _his _powers backfiring so spectacularly on a fellow Guardian, he would be mortified! Sandy was probably no different. In fact he probably knew something like this might happen, which was why he was so cross with Tooth and Jack for spying on him. He didn't want to drag anyone else into it.

For the first time Jack was glad he ended up in this situation. Sandy didn't need someone dumbly following him and poking through his baggage, but he did need help.

"Jack? Are you coming?" Sandy was waiting at the edge of the beach.

"Oh. Yeah." Jack trotted to catch up. "Where are we going?"

"To a camp."

They scaled a small ridge and discovered a vast wetland stretching before them. The endless rivers and glades shimmered in the sun, dark stands of trees broke up the scenery, and countless animals wandered in herds or alone. Some of them Jack recognized. Others were completely foreign to him.

"Want me to make another sleigh?" he asked.

Sandy shook his head. "It's not far."

And he was right. A few minutes later they came upon a dry area of grass that showed signs of human habitation; mostly in the form of old fire pits.

Jack frowned. "There's no one here."

"Nomads," explained Sandy. "I had to track them."

"How long did that take you?"

He partially closed one eye as he made the conversions in his head. "About a year and a half."

Jack's eyes widened and his stomach dropped. "Sandy... we don't _have _a year and a half!"

"I _know_."

And this time Jack could clearly hear the pain in Sandy's voice.

Sandy closed his eyes and sucked a breath in through his nose. "Time moves more swiftly in here. Only a few minutes will have passed in the real world."

For just a moment, the mask he was wearing slipped and Jack saw how exhausted and harried he looked. He smiled and it was back in place. "I'm also certain we can cut that time down to a couple of days using your powers."

Jack wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Instead he asked, "And what about when we find them? How long ago was this?"

"I don't know."

Jack stared at him. He truly looked like he was being honest.

"Years have almost no meaning to me," he offered.

Jack nodded. "Okay... then what's your best guess?"

Lost in thought, Sandy wrapped his arms around himself. "It has to be at least... 50,000 years?" he said uncertainly.

When he looked up, it was to meet Jack's sad, sympathetic eyes. "Oh _Sandy..._"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," he quickly affirmed. "I was asleep for most of that time."

"But still..." Jack stopped himself and forced himself to think about solutions rather then continuing to freak out at his friend. "Maybe... you've been going about this wrong."

"Oh?" Sandy brightened a little as he was eager for a different subject.

"I've got that you don't have your sand right now, and you can't control this place like normal, right?"

Sandy's eyes shot to the ground as he slowly nodded. He looked... ashamed.

With a reassuring smile, Jack said, "Then don't _try _to control it like normal."

That at least caught the Sandman's interest. "What do you propose?"

"Um..." Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead against the crook of his staff. His head snapped up. "Ooh! I saw this in a movie once. Imagine a door."

Sandy looked eager for a couple of seconds before his face cracked into a wane smile. "A door? That's not very creative."

Jack threw his arms in the air. "Well, what do you want, a worm hole?"

"Maybe a portcullis." Crossing his arms, Sandy shut his eyes and scrunched up his face. He also seemed to be holding his breath. After about a minute he relaxed and looked around, his arms still crossed. "Did it work?"

"You don't have to be sarcastic." Jack paced with a knuckle to his lips. "Okay... close your eyes again."

Sandy did as he was told.

"Now put your hand out."

He extended his left hand.

"Just beyond your fingers is a door," Jack said slowly. "One you're familiar with. You can already picture every detail about it: the shape, the color, the grain of the wood, and even handle's patina. Have you got it?"

"Yes..."

He could hear the grin in Jack's voice. "Reach out and touch it."

To his astonishment his fingers brushed against something. He opened his eyes and laughed. "Alright, I'm impressed!"

There, standing in the middle of the East African grass, was one of the doors from North's workshop.

Jack clapped an arm around Sandy's shoulders. "Knew you could do it." He chuckled when Sandy ducked from under him and shivered.

"Is it an exit?" Jack asked.

"I hope so."

Cautiously, Sandy took the handle and turned it. The door opened with a soft click and swung inwards on well oiled, invisible hinges. Beyond it was darkness.

The two spirits glanced at each other and stepped through.

* * *

**Seriously though, I drive a school bus and all the kids ever talk about is Pokemon! Even the girls!**


	5. The Shadow

**Quick note: I did a little revision in the previous chapters: mostly capitoled some words that weren't before and corrected the term **_**lower-mind. **_**It should be **_**lower-awareness.**_** If you notice any format changes from here on in, that's why.**

* * *

Chapter 5: The Shadow

It was night; starless and moonless. There was a campsite nestled under some trees with a crackling fire and a familiar pack of belongings strewn about. Sandy was immediately on edge.

"I know this place," he whispered. The campsite was so familiar that he knew exactly where to reach to find his spear.

Behind him, Jack was looking around with a frown. "We're still in Africa." He didn't notice the door slowly closing

Sandy was beginning to breath heavy, brown bleeding into edges of his golden eyes. He shut them and shook his head hard to keep from slipping into the memory. "We need to go back." He whipped around. "Don't let the door-"

A soft click, and the door was gone.

Jack looked to where it once was, and then back to Sandy. He put his hands up, "I didn't touch it."

There was a sound in the night, low and primal. It made the hairs on Jack's neck stand on end and he moved into a fighting stance, his staff brandished like a weapon.

Sandy mirrored this more slowly, more determined. He knew what was coming. "Jack," he said, "Keep in mind that this is only a memory. You are not a part of it, and so it cannot harm you."

"Yeah?" Jack peered desperately into the dark. This reminded him too much of the time they faced down the herd of Nightmares, and Sandy's words were far from reassuring. The outcome of that battle was still fresh in his mind. "What about you?"

Sandy shot him an unnerving smirk. "I didn't die this night."

"Then why do you look so freaked out?"

There was that sound again, closer this time. Jack was sure he heard it before perhaps a hundred or so years ago. Too long to recall its origin. It was like the braying of a hound, only impossibly deep and loud, and possessing a rough edge.

"I do not like lions," Sandy said stiffly.

Jack's heart leapt into his throat. _Lions?! _He remembered the great cats from those early sojourns into Africa, and he still saw them sometimes in zoos. He was a Spirit, and they always looked so lazy that he never had reason to fear them the way Sandy obviously did now, but he remembered the muscular bodies and yawning teeth. He understood what a lone mortal had to be afraid of.

"Please tell me I can help you."

"I don't know," Sandy whispered. The bushes were rustling. They were getting closer.

A pair of eyes, shining like full moons, appeared at the edge of the firelight... only they were too far off the ground to belong to any feline. It was difficult to tell because the creature blended so well with the darkness, but it seemed to have the outline of a very thin man about Sandy's height.

Something about this figure made Jack shudder. "I thought you said lions?"

"I did." Sandy pulled a brand from the fire and held it up to get a better look. It did no good.

"What _is _that?" asked Jack.

"A Shadow..."

"Sounds ominous. A present from Pitch?"

"No."

The dark creature slowly moved into a crouch until it was bent double. When it leaned forward into the light, it had the head of a lioness. Mouth open. Fangs dripping with blood and saliva. The velvet of her snout was also flecked with rich, fresh blood that gleamed black by the firelight. She stepped forward, her body oozing from the night on four massive paws.

Those eyes, which were still glowing with their reflective lenses, flicked warily from Sandy and his impromptu torch, to the fire, and back. At least five more sets of eyes appeared, but their owners were staying away.

Sandy and the lioness stared each other down. The man was the first to move. He suddenly stepped forward and waved his brand at her, causing her to jump back, growling, swiping her claws, her rump down and her tail lowered.

Jack, not being part of the memory, was able to take a look around. The other lions were skittishly circling the edge of the camp.

He was beginning to understand what was happening.

They weren't hunting. In fact, based on the blood they all wore, they had just made a kill. Curiosity had drawn them to a strange light in the night and the stranger animal that wielded it, and some of them were already leaving.

Sandy was shaking, but he understood that if he fled, he would be torn apart in seconds. His only chance was to stand his ground and hope.

One by one the lionesses vanished. Only the first one remained, and she knew she was alone. She was tense and snarling. She had fallen for Sandy's bluff and now shared his predicament; fear that if she turned tail, he would kill her.

Slowly, ever so slowly the lioness inched away until she was out of the light. Her eyes blinked away and she melded with the bushes. She was gone.

Jack let out the breath he'd been holding and chuckled. He was about to say something about that not being so bad, but one look at Sandy was enough to dash that notion.

The man was drenched in sweat, breathing hard, and shaking. The brand he held had nothing but smoking embers at the end, so he tossed it back in the fire. He kept a white knuckled grip on his spear as he ran his other hand over his face.

Jack circled him and leaned in, waiting for him to open his eyes to see if he was still there.

He leaned back from this intrusion of his space and smiled knowingly. "I'm alright."

"You don't look it," Jack huffed.

The sigh he heaved was a shaky one. "I do _not _like lions."

Jack's brow rose despite the smile that warmed his face. So Sandy had a phobia? At least it was a rational one.

He gripped Sandy's shoulder. "Do you need to take a break?"

Sandy shivered, but didn't push Jack's icy hand away. He shook his head. "I have a clearer idea of what is happening. As much as I would... rather not, we need to continue forward." He was calmer now. He looked around the camp, considering something. "We can leave these things. They will follow."

"Alright. Where to?"

Sandy picked a point in the dark to stare. The Shadow was back, barely visible and watching. When their eyes met it beckoned.

He moved towards it, but Jack held him back.

"No," said Jack. "What are you doing?"

Sandy pointed at the Shadow as though Jack hadn't already noticed. "It wants us to follow it."

Jack had to stop him a second time. "Are you insane_? It _just turned into a lion and almost attacked you."

"It only forced the memory," Sandy explained patiently. "I was... resisting. We would have been trapped in this moment for some time."

That caused Jack pause. "So, it's helping us?"

Sandy stared him in the eyes, a pensive frown on his face. "Do you trust me?"

"Uh... Yeah?" Jack was startled by the question and shifted uncomfortably under his friend's searching gaze.

"Jack," Sandy growled sharply.

Stiffening, Jack looked looked to the Shadow with widened eyes. "What is with you?! That thing might attack again."

"You only have to fear it if you fear it."

"That makes no sense..."

Sandy raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Do you trust me?"

With his head lowered, Jack gripped his staff to his chest and said, "I should... I know I should..."

"But you don't," Sandy pointed out. His voice was soft and kind.

"No!" Jack looked up, his face a picture of panic. "I do! I trust you... probably more than anyone. I mean, you're the freaking Sandman! You're the first Spirit I met, you know; and you're the only one who never chased me away. Even Tooth..." He took a deep breath and released it. This was Sandy he was talking to, and he felt he had to be honest. "But we never actually talked before this happened, so I feel like I don't really know you, and... well..."

"You fear you cannot trust yourself."

Jack peered at him through his bangs and nodded. "Something like that," he said glumly.

If he was expecting the Sandman to tell him off or explain why he was wrong, he was going to be disappointed. Sandy only smiled knowingly at him.

"If this continues the way I believe it will, then you _are_ going to know me... more then anyone ever has..." Sandy shuddered and Jack got the message: he was not comfortable with this thought at all. He continued, "But I am going to have to trust _you_. If we go far enough before we can escape, you may encounter things you can't understand, and I need you not to be afraid or... hateful..."

"Sandy, I could never-"

He held up a hand for Jack to be quiet. "And this is one of those moments." He turned away. "The Shadow _is _going to help us move along, but only because there's something it wants me to face. It is the one trapping us here."

"Hold on." It was Jack's turn to put up his hand for quiet. "You're telling me that _thing,"_ he point at the dark figure, which had stopped waving and was waiting patiently for them, "has taken control of your powers?"

"No." Sandy hugged himself again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "I am telling you that it's never not had control of them."

"Huh?!"

"It _is_ me," Sandy shrugged, his head down. "Or rather, it represents the indirect parts of my mind."

It took a moment for Jack to decipher what that meant, and then he slapped his hand to his forehead. "It's your subconscious."

Sandy tilted his head. "Hmm?"

"This Shadow of yours... it's your subconscious."

He blinked in surprise, then lowered his brow. "Is _that _what that word means? _Lower-awareness_ is terribly inaccurate. There's nothing low or secondary about it. The better term would be _hidden-awareness. _So... _absconditus_-conscious? Condconscious? That's not very pleasant to say..."

Jack just shook his head. He looked at the Shadow in the bushes with uncertainty and said, "So on some level, you _want_ to go through these memories, and that's why you can't get us out of here?"

"No," Sandy snapped. "I can guarantee you I do not want to be here, but this isn't a matter of want."

Finally putting the pieces together, Jack said, "You _need _to be here."

Sandy didn't respond.

"This is tied to the same thing that's making you sick in the real world, isn't it?"

Again he didn't answer, but his hold on himself tightened and he squared his shoulders in a way that looked like he was trying to shrink.

"Sandy?"

He flinched. In a barely audible whisper, he said, "You're not the only one who is afraid to trust himself."

When he spoke again, it was with more volume. "I will not lie to you, but... I don't want to talk about this... ever. Just know that it's not anything harmful to either of us, and if it was I would have explained it to Toothiana when she first asked. I... don't think I can get out of this. I know it's something I must face, though I dread it to my very core. However _you _are only here on happenstance. I have been trying to awaken us _both _up to this point, but freeing you alone should be much easier. Then you can get us to safety and I will be able to face this without... without fear. If that doesn't work... if it comes to it, I will explain myself." He looked down at Jack with shimmering, forlorn eyes. "Is that enough?"

A lump was forming in Jack's throat and before he could think about it, he was wrapping his arms around his distressed friend's taller frame. He expected the hug to be awkward and short, but Sandy stooped and clung desperately to him, almost lifting him off the ground. Sandy was shaking, and Jack couldn't quite convinced himself it was because of the chill.

It was a strange thing to realize the Sandman, one of the oldest and strongest Spirits, could be this frightened of something, and even stranger that it might be the same sort of fears that Jack was grappling with.

"Hey, it's okay," said Jack. "I don't want to pry into your secrets, and I'm not trying to find a way out of here. I'm trying to find a way to help _you_."

He was squeezed tighter (almost bone crushingly so) before being released. Sandy put Jack down and kept a hand on his shoulder, staring at him with that look again; the one Sandy wore when Jack had insisted on helping Pitch. It could only be described as confused wonder.

Jack coughed into his hand and checked that the Shadow was still waiting. Sandy blinked and followed his gaze.

"You really think we should follow that guy?" asked Jack.

"I know that we must." Sandy's voice was even quieter and more reserved then usual.

To counter this, Jack grinned and cheerfully said, "Then what are we waiting for?"

* * *

The Shadow glided ahead of them with swift purpose, leading them through a tangled forest that darkened and thickened before growing light again. Finally the strange woods opened into a field of tall grass that was cut by a wide river. The sun was now high. The Shadow was inky black as it stepped into the light and stood proudly overlooking the scene before it.

Jack and Sandy joined it.

"That's the tribe." Sandy pointed at a number of grass huts clustered like pox next to the river.

"Great! You gonna let us out now?" Jack turned towards the Shadow, but it was gone. "I guess not."

Sandy grabbed Jack by the elbow and tugged him back into the trees. "Those hunters down there are coming this way," he explained before Jack could object. "They will not see you, but I don't know what will happen if they notice me before they're meant to."

Jack spotted the three hunters Sandy was referring to. They carried spears and undecorated hide shields, and wore scowls on their dark, bearded faces.

"They look pretty mad," said Jack.

Sandy nodded. "They know I have been following them and are afraid I might try to steal their food or hurt one of them. They're on their way to kill me," he said flippantly.

"You say that like it's a good thing..."

"It is a good thing." And yet he was frowning. "It means we're much further along than I thought. This happened about a year after I initially tracked the tribe down."

Jack was giving him that horrified look again, so he quickly added, "I didn't know their language, or their ways, so I watched and listened. I was hoping if I knew enough when I finally approached them, they would be more likely to accept me."

Jack managed half smile. "Did it work?"

Glancing at him, Sandy said, "In a sense." He wasn't even pretending to be cheerful anymore. "Now come. I have to scare them out of my camp."

They moved through the trees after the hunters, Sandy skulking stealthily and Jack walking with his staff against his shoulder. When the hunters reached what was obviously Sandy's camp, they split up, babbling and poking at the various objects.

"What are they saying?" Jack asked at normal volume.

Sandy tilted his head. "You can't understand?"

"I've never heard this language before in my life."

"Ah." Sandy nodded to himself sagely. "You're still clinging to the concept of language."

Jack frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are a Spirit, and so you can understand other Spirits and people on a more intrinsic level. You only need to look beyond the concept of language and into its deeper truths. Believe you can understand and you will."

His expression lightening a little, Jack asked, "Can I understand your symbols like that... you know... on the outside?"

"I have yet to meet anyone who can." Sandy focused most of his attention on the invaders of his camp.

One of them was into his pouch of sand. The hunter pinched some out and rubbed it between his fingers, then sniffed at it. He began to blink and sway on the spot, but tallest of the three came over and jostled his shoulder. The hunter with the sand shook himself. He dropped the pouch back on the ground, causing Sandy to wince.

"Why not?"

Sandy looked back at Jack. "In my experience, it only works with the spoken word. Writing is a relatively recent invention."

"Oh..."

"Excuse me for a moment." Sandy slipped into the trees.

Jack stared after him for a second before stepping into the camp and trying out what he'd just been told. It was the strangest explanation, and he was sure if he was human, he wouldn't understand at all. Yet, somehow it made sense to him. It was like someone switched on a light switch, or like the time he found he could make frostlings (as he called them in his head).

"Okay..."

The tall man was talking the most, gesturing directions for the other two. Jack stood in front of him and focused on his words.

"I believe I can understand you," Jack said lamely.

The men continued to babble.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on what Sandy had said; that language had deeper truths. Slowly, so slowly it came to him... It didn't matter that these people lived and died over 50,000 years ago. It didn't matter that the sounds they made were alien to his ears. Every word they said corresponded with something in this world, a world Jack was even more familiar with then they were. Everything they were saying had since been said an endless number of times with an endless combination of sounds, and it didn't matter. The meaning was always the same.

A part of his very core reached out and intertwined with a stream of something he never knew was there. He gasped and doubled over, clutching his chest at the strange sensation, then he grinned.

The tall hunter was talking again. He was still making the same sounds as before, but now Jack could understand them.

_"... do not care who saw a lion. These are not lion things. Lions make no fire."_

_"What if this one does?"_

It occurred to Jack that it was strange he could grasp this while trapped inside a dream... that he could still control his powers, but couldn't fly or do whatever he wanted. It was scary how little he knew about what he was. He now had a million more questions, but he needed to focus on helping Sandy first.

The bushes shook with a guttural animal noise. The man who'd been messing with the sand jumped.

_"What is that?!" _he cried.

_"The wind?" _said the third hunter.

It happened again in a different spot, and this time all three of them were on guard.

As the noises continued, Jack started snickering with restrained laughter. He recognized the voice. It was essentially Sandy running back and forth, shaking the trees and trying to growl, and yet he had these serious, stony faced hunters practically pissing themselves.

The tall one (who Jack was quickly thinking was the leader) straitened up and, in his most authoritative voice, said, _"Show yourself! Be you man or beast, show yourself or we kill you!"_

Sandy obliged. He crawled into the clearing on all fours, moving with an inhuman twitch that was reminiscent of an insect or crab. He was wearing a sort of piecemeal fur cloak, with some deer-like creature's face covering his own like a hood. He also had furs wrapped around his hands, sticks jutting from them to look like jagged claws.

The result was actually very creepy, and combined with the sick, throaty noise Sandy was making, caused the hunters freeze in terror. All he had to do was scuttle towards them and they dropped everything to run for their lives.

Jack was cackling. "Oh man... that was brilliant!"

Sandy had a bit of a harried smile as he lowered his 'hood' and dropped the cloak from his shoulders.

"No, put it back on! It's a good look for you!"

"It stinks," Sandy said in a flat tone. He took off the bracers and tossed them down as well.

"Well yeah..." Jack began poking it with his staff. "What've you got... 30 different animals on here? Does Bunny know you used to murder cute, fluffy critters to make horror suits?"

Sandy cringed. "Will he find out?"

The laughter died and Jack's heart sank a little. Did Sandy honestly think he would gossip about this stuff? "Sandy... I was joking. I swear to you, I will _never _tell a soul about _anything_ I see in here."

That earned him a small smile from the man. "No, of course you wouldn't. I... don't know what I was thinking." It faded as Sandy looked away.

He sat next to the fire pit and rested his cheek on his palm. His face was drawn, his eyes vacant as he stared at the ashes.

Jack squatted partly in front of him to get a look at his eyes. They were still gold, but dull. "Sandy? I mean it," he said firmly. "You know that, right?"

"Yes." Sandy refused to meet his gaze. "It's not that. I am... upset because it is advancing on me faster then I realized."

"What is?"

Finally he looked up and held Jack still with his heavy stare. "My death."

* * *

**Whew... that was a hard one to write. As you can imagine, the next chapter's gonna be even harder so please be patient :)**


	6. Death of a Man

**Okay, so I lied. This was surprisingly easy to write. It just flowed. I hope people enjoy it.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Death of a Man

They said very little to each other after that. What was there to say? Jack knew that Sandy would have had to die at some point to become a Spirit. That seemed to be how it worked. He was hoping he wouldn't have to witness it though. To watch a friend die without being able to do anything about it... that sounded like a pretty good description of Hell. He could only imagine how Sandy felt; knowing what was about to happen, knowing exactly how and what it would feel like, and knowing there was no way to escape it...

Speaking of Sandy, the man was squatting in the grass outside the village and hadn't moved in hours. His arms were resting on his knees, his hands dangling between them. His spear was laying ready next to him.

Jack, on the other hand, was wandering the edge of the huts. He had long ago grown bored, but was unwilling to leave Sandy in that state, so he couldn't explore the village proper. What he could observe of these people only varied slightly from the islanders. They lived in huts instead of under the shade of trees, and they had thick, curly hair and beards that they left to do as it would, as apposed to Sandy's straight hair that looked like he'd cut it with a stone knife (which he probably did). Yet they used the same stone and wood tools and wore the same hides. Another trend was the lack of decoration.

Oddly enough, this couldn't be said for Sandy's things anymore. Since the last time skip, his spear had turned red and black (probably using clay and ash), and many of his tools back at the camp now bore crude carvings of swirls and fish.

A group of children ran by, jarring Jack out of his thoughts. He watched them play a sort of rudimentary tag, where one of them was the _'Beast Man' _and the others were the hunters. They would alternate between the monster chasing the hunters, and the hunters chasing, and slaying the monster. Jack winced when they mock stabbed the monster with their 'spears' (twigs).

These people weren't going to kill Sandy, were they?

He made his way back to his friend, who still hadn't moved. Sandy was staring at the children through expressionless eyes. He didn't comment when Jack settled next to him.

"You wanna move somewhere else? You're kinda getting creepy."

He said nothing, not that Jack expected him to.

Jack laid down on his back with one leg crooked and his fingers laced on his chest. "Does it happen fast at least?" Maybe he could close his eyes, it would be over, and Sandy would be a Spirit.

But Sandy had to dash his hopes with a softly uttered, "No."

Jack's stomach now twisted in knots so he tried a joke. "Maybe I could crack you in the head with my staff... get it over with. It'd be like pulling a band-aid." Okay, so it was an inappropriate joke.

"Bandages have not been invented yet..." That should have been a funny retort, but Sandy voice was lifeless.

Jack took the hint and opted to quietly stare at the clouds.

He sat up when he heard Sandy mutter something. "What was that?"

"I said 'I'm sorry,'" Sandy clarified. "Dreams are not suppose to feel this real. I am... trying to keep a hold of myself, but it's as though I truly am living in a mortal body; I can sense my life moving towards its end. I... fear death... and it is wreaking havoc on me."

"That's understandable," Jack said gently. He was glad his friend was at least trying to communicate what was wrong.

Sandy clasped his hands together and continued as though he didn't hear him. "I can't remember ever feeling fear like this. I have not thought about _this _miserable period in _thousands _of years; it was the equivalent of a second compared to my long existence, and yet it is still so vivid. It should _not_ hold this much importance."

This sounded uncannily familiar to Jack... different context but the same lament. He found himself automatically reciting the response. "Remembering who we are in life is remembering our humanity. It's remembering what we protect and why."

Sandy froze, his eyes wide. Slowly his features softened with comprehension and he looked sidelong at the Winter Spirit. "Where did you hear that?"

"What? I can't have come up with it on my own?" Jack said with a small smirk.

Wonders to behold, Sandy smirked back! Though one of his eyebrows rose with incredulity as well. "Did you?"

Jack smiled and hung his head in mock shame. "Nah. Tooth said it... yesterday in fact."

Placing a hand on his forehead, Sandy shut his eyes and started laughing a choking, wheezy sort of laugh: the kind that's difficult to tell if the person is also crying or not.

"Did I miss something?" Jack was humored, but also worried by this.

Sandy was still sniggering as he said, "That woman continues to save me from myself, even by proxy." He wiped tears from his eyes.

Jack's curiosity was piqued by that, but he kept it to himself. He had said he wasn't trying to pry after all. "You're okay though?"

"I am... much better than I was, yes. Thank you."

The transition was so quick that Jack almost missed it. One second the man was smiling (albeit sadly), and the next he was tense, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a grim line. He grabbed his spear and used it to help him stand, ignoring the pop and crackle of his stiff joints. "It's starting."

They heard a cry go up from the village, and then men shouting things like:

_"__After it! Do not loose it!"_

_"__Which way?"_

_"Do not drop your spear this time, boy!"_

They really were going to kill Sandy!

Jack perched on his staff so he could see over the grass. Oddly the men were at the other end of the huts and heading in the wrong direction. It was then that Jack spotted something parting the grass as it moved away from them, but he couldn't make out what it was.

It was to fast to be human. It continued straight until it was far enough from it's pursuers, and then veered to the side, circling around the village and coming to a stop not far from where Sandy stood. The men continued along its original path.

Even though the creature was nearby, Jack still couldn't tell what it was. He could hear it though: rough, heavy breathing.

Sandy could hear it as well, and was looking around for the source. He squinted into the grass and then gasped, his eyes going wide. He looked from whatever he spotted to the group of children. They were standing, turned towards the huts and the ruckus the men had caused.

Dread settled into Jack as he caught on. The grass was shifting again, it was after the children!

He was frozen. This was a memory. Whatever was going to happen, there was nothing he could do but watch.

A great gold and brown blur burst from the grass and swiftly crossed the bare earth. It was completely silent. The children didn't know to turn around. They were never going to see it coming.

Just before it reached them, it lunged... and was knocked to the side when a second blur crashed into it. The two were tangled, and the fight that proceeded was disturbingly silent. Still, the dust and plant-matter they were kicking up was enough to catch the children's attention.

There was screaming and running, and some women rushed over to snatch up those kids who were too shocked to move.

Jack finally exhaled. When he slid over there, it was to find Sandy standing off with what had to be the biggest, ugliest lion that ever stalked the plains of Africa.

It was huge, but also thin... skeletal. Its ribs and hips jutted uncomfortably from beneath a lusterless hide, its mane was scraggly and matted, and there was a sizable new gash on its side. The face was the worst part, however; horribly scarred on the left, leaving the eye half closed and pulling the lips apart in a permanent sneer that showed off a row of broken teeth. That disfigured jaw was parted, tongue lolling and drool slavering endlessly. The eyes though... the eyes were filmy with the madness of hunger. They saw nothing but meat.

This was no king of beasts. This was an animal broken by desperation, and it was the most terrifying creature Jack had ever seen.

Yet Sandy did not waver.

His spear dripped with the blood of his foe, but he himself hadn't escaped from the skirmish uninjured. Across his right shoulder and back were four angry slashes courtesy of the lion's claws. He didn't even seem to notice.

The lion's eyes glanced to the frightened women and children hiding behind their flimsy huts. Clearly it didn't want anything to do with this furious hunter standing in its way. It only wanted an easy meal. It moved to go around him, but he moved as well and jabbed at it with his weapon.

The lion swatted at him and roared. Sandy's face became feral as he did his best to roar back.

That caused a flicker of something... lucidity? Caution? The beast withdrew a little and looked around itself as though waking up from a bad dream. It was panting heavily now, and it stared at Sandy with nothing but fear.

Then something snapped. The last shreds of its sanity were gone. With another roar, the lion threw itself at Sandy's waiting spear, and the man barely had time to brace himself as he was knocked back onto his injured shoulder. He cried out in pain, but held fast to his weapon. The lion thrashed violently and twisted, snapping the wood at the point where it disappeared into its flesh.

It rolled away and stood. Sandy did so as well. He still held what was left of his spear in his right hand, his stance telling that he would beat the lion in the face with it if he had to, but he was breathless and he was grasping his shoulder with his left hand.

The spear must have punctured a lung, because the lion's panting was becoming wet and sticky. Blood and saliva foamed at the corners of its mouth and it shuddered with every breath. It held Sandy's gaze while the life slowly left its eyes; didn't even have the strength to close them as it slumped to the ground.

Sandy dropped his broken stick and fell to his knees, shivering from shock and pain. He ignored Jack's hand on his arm. Instead he looked over his shoulder, his breath quickening with panic. The women and children were emerging from their hiding places and the men were returning after hearing the chaos, they were all staring at him.

He forced himself to his feet and ran.

No one stopped him.

* * *

Jack waited till they were back at the camp to flip out.

"You killed a lion!"

"A sick and starving lion," Sandy pointed out. He sat next to the fire pit with a pile of leaves and moss in his hand that he pressed to his wounds to staunch the flow of blood.

"But it was _crazy_, and you killed it! With a stick! A... and you're still alive... How are you still alive? Weren't you supposed to die back there?" Jack noticed what Sandy was doing and calmed down. "Hey, don't use that! You'll give yourself a massive infection."

Sandy sighed and shot Jack an exasperated glare.

It took a moment for the Winter Spirit to put two and two together. He lowered his head. "Oh..."

Sandy went back to trying to clean himself up, but the pain was kicking in full force now and the angle was difficult enough to reach as it was. Jack looked around and found a water-skin. He picked it up and said, "Um... can I..."

Sandy nodded and lowered his now bloody foliage. When Jack poured the water over his injury he hissed through this teeth, but didn't move.

Jack continued to pour the water out until it was gone, then he took a moment to look over the damage. The cuts were surprisingly shallow and the bleeding was already slowing, but they were caked with dirt and phlegm from tussling with the lion. He grabbed a clean bit of moss and did what he could.

The silence between them was uncomfortable, so Sandy said, "I have been trying to get you out of here... to... spare you all of this, but it has not been working. Not even your door trick from earlier."

Jack kept working as he shrugged. "Maybe you don't want to be alone."

Sandy bristled. "That is _not _an acceptable excuse."

"It's probably not something you can control." Jack hadn't meant that with any anger or resentment, but it still caused Sandy to try to shrink in shame. Jack saw this and sighed. "Look... I know _you _don't really want me in your head, and, frankly, I don't want to be seeing any of this. But I'm kinda glad I'm here. I'd much rather be _with_ you right now then out there knowing that you're going through all of this alone."

Sandy opened his mouth to respond, but right at that moment the bushes were pushed aside and an old man stepped into the clearing. The shock of this interruption threw Sandy back into the memory. He growled and charged at the intruder, who responded by rapping him on the forehead with a walking stick.

Sandy sucked in a breath and doubled over, his hands pressed to his smarting brow. The old man stepped around him.

Jack stood and went over to his friend, keeping a wary eye on the intruder.

The old man was tall despite being bent with age, and there was still quite a bit of muscle under his crinkled skin. He was bald, but he had a beard that was full and as white as Jack's hair. This he stroked as he snooped through the camp.

Two hunters emerged from the trees and stood on either side of Sandy in case he decided to attack again.

The old man picked up the animal skin cloak and sniffed it before dropping it. He poked at various objects with his stick and declared, _"These are man things, but strange ones."_ He picked up the piece of wood used for lighting fires and examined the carvings on it. _"What are these lines?"_

Sandy, now recovered, only cowered and stared wide eyed at the ground.

Undeterred, the old man dropped this as well and went for the pouch of sand next. After opening it, he poured a small amount of the contents into his palm.

_"Be careful Elder,"_ said one of the hunters. Jack now recognized him as the one who'd been messing with it before.

The Elder ignored him and asked, _"What is this?"_

Sandy raised his eyes now, silently pleading. He muttered a single word. _"Home."_

_"This is not a home. This is sand."_

Sandy looked down again.

However the Elder was not finished. _"Where is your home? Where are your people?"_

_"Gone... all gone..."_

_"Gone where?"_

Jack snorted and rolled his eyes. Couldn't the geezer take a hint?

_"In... water. Great... big water,"_ Sandy brokenly tried to explain.

The Elder raised a bushy white eyebrow. _"The Sea?"_

_"Yes... the Sea."_

_"Are they fish?" _Miserable old prick.

Sandy stilled, his eyes even wider as he carefully contemplated his answer. He gulped and very slowly, very deliberately said, _"Yes. They are fish. I was... fish. Star... a star fell with much fire and I go to see. It die... it was dying... breathing fire. I burn... burned. Scales burned off and now I am a man. People say I go live with men."_

The two hunters looked at each other, slightly awed, but the Elder was unimpressed. Still, his face softened and he nodded. He might not have understood that story, but he understood someone being all alone, looking for a home. He tipped the sand he held back into its pouch, fastened it shut, and held it out to Sandy, who snatched it and held it to his chest. _"You saved our children," _said the Elder. _"You come with me, now. They will gather your belongings."_ He nodded to his two men and walked away.

Sandy hesitated, but one of the men smiled at him and nodded in the Elder's direction. Sandy hesitantly followed.

Walking along side him, Jack reached out and touched a cold hand to Sandy's neck, causing Sandy to give a start and swat his hand away. Jack was staring at him slack jawed.

"What?" he asked.

"You lied!"

"So?"

"Like... outright!" Jack was grinning now.

Sandy scowled at him, "What should I have said? 'Hey, remember the people who used to attack you every time you camped by the Sea? Well I'm the only one left. Mind if I join you?'"

"You and sarcasm make strange bedfellows..."

* * *

When they reached the village, Jack was forced into the background while Sandy was swarmed by several grateful women. Whatever they were saying was lost on Jack and his amateur ability to understand, so he had to sit back and watch as his friend's wounds were uselessly cleaned and treated. Apparently the Shadow didn't want them to skip any of this. Even walking Sandy through another door apparition didn't work.

Sandy slowly deteriorated over that night and the next day until, by the middle of the third morning, he was slick with sweat, shivering, and ashen. His wounds were turning awful colors. No matter what the women tried: special leaves, herbal mixtures, boiling water... nothing worked. _The lion's rage _they called it.

Jack stayed by Sandy's side through this long and painful ordeal. The two were quiet despite Sandy remaining present. He looked up and met Jack's eyes every now and then before returning his attention to whatever was happening in the memory, but he never said anything. Jack knew the moment when they gave up. Most of the women drifted away, only a single one remaining. She and the young man who had messed with the sand (Jack was now calling him Pouchsnooper), tried to move Sandy into a hut, but he refused. He ended up laying bundled next to a fire by the river.

Jack sat nearby, his stomach twisted into a knot that would make the Celts proud, while trying to keep a calm demeanor. The moon was full. Sandy stared up at it with glazed, feverish eyes.

It wouldn't be long now.

The woman was back, and this time she brought a small boy with her. _"This is my son," _she said awkwardly. _"He says he saw the lion's eyes. It was coming for him... and you stopped it. My man and I thought he should thank you."_

For the first time during this whole ordeal Sandy smiled. He weakly reached out a hand and the boy - bless him - stepped forward and took it. He looked at Sandy shyly, then blurted, _"Thank you for saving me were you really a fish?"_

The boy's mother started scolding him, but stopped when Sandy started laughing. It was short lived and it left him gasping for breath. _"Yes," _he said. _"I was a fish. Swam deep in Sea with many fish... many color..." _ He trailed off.

If the boy was troubled by the broken speech, he didn't show it. _"Do you have a family?"_

Jack winced at this question, but Sandy answered it, his voice cracking at points. _"I had mother, father, and woman, and son, and son. Two son... like you..."_

_"And they are under the Sea?"_

Though his eyes were filled with grief, he had the grace to keep a smile on his face. _"Yes... under the Sea..." _He stopped talking after that. He was growing weaker by the second.

As the woman ushered her son away, Jack bowed his head under the weight of finally realizing just how much Sandy had lost. Tears sprang to his eyes and he couldn't stop them from spilling down his cheeks, their saltiness keeping them from freezing.

The man came over. His woman looked up at him from her spot by Sandy's side and said, _"Soon."_

Jack choked back a sob and cinched his eyes shut, trying to regain control of himself. This was too much! Why was Sandy putting himself through this?!

Something gently prised his hand from its death grip on his staff and gave it a squeeze. He opened his eyes to find Sandy hazily staring at him.

"I'm not so bad..." Sandy whispered. "Doesn't hurt s'much as I thought..."

Jack sniffled and wiped his eyes. "That's not why I'm crying, you dummy."

"...I know." Sandy looked back up at the moon. "I'm glad you're here..." The brown bled into his eyes as they closed, and his grip on Jack's hand went slack.

The man had breathed his last.

* * *

**Have no fear, for the story is far from over.**


	7. Birth of a Dream

Chapter 7: Birth of a Dream

Nothing happened.

There should have been fanfare, a flash of gold, an explosion like at the crater, something... anything...

The night remained quiet. The Man in the Moon shone brightly, but sent no beams down to raise the fallen Guardian.

Jack gently placed his friend's limp hand on the ground, sat back, and looked heavenward. Tears were still pooling at the corners of his eyes, but they had stopped falling. "Come on, Manny," he whispered. "Do something..."

But still nothing happened.

Jack closed his eyes, hung his head, and wrapped his arms around himself. Did the memory stall? Had the trauma of reliving his death taken its toll on Sandy?

Something warm settled on his back.

"Jack?"

He opened his eyes. Sandy was still lying on the ground in front of him, but there was a second Sandy crouched by his side, a hand on his back, eyes filled with concern.

"Are you alright?" Sandy asked. This was just like on that disaster stricken beach...

Jack nodded and wiped his eyes. "That was quieter than I was expecting."

"These things usually are." Sandy smiled at him, and it wasn't the smile of someone trying to hide their misery. It was the genuine article. Sandy reached out a hand and the pouch of sand, which was lying on the other side of his body, floated over to him. He stood and undid the ties. It was Dreamsand that coursed out.

Jack got to his feet and smiled as well, letting the streams of bright gold that now surrounded them flow over his fingers. He looked at Sandy, who was happily watching the sand drift through the village and into the huts.

The man who was standing before him was not the same as the one on the ground, but he wasn't the pale, sand-clad little guy Jack was familiar with either. Sandy almost looked like his human self, but his hair was now a shimmering gold, and his skin had a rich glow, like candle-lit bronze. On his right shoulder his wounds had transformed into an intricate design of spirals that shone golden from within. He made an impressive Spirit, but he wasn't the modern Sandman yet.

It didn't matter. As long as he wasn't the broken, dying shell he was moments before, that was enough for Jack. Once the Dreamsand was gone, Sandy found himself with an armful of Winter Spirit, and, like last time, he didn't hesitate to return the hug.

"Let's never do that again," said Jack, not joking at all.

Sandy chuckled. "Agreed."

They broke apart, Sandy smiling his usual smile, and Jack shifting awkwardly. He couldn't believe he pulled one of those a second time. Clearing his throat, he said, "So... what happens now?"

"I return to the the beginning," Sandy answered. He set off towards center of the village.

Jack's heart started racing as he stepped in line. Sandy couldn't possible mean they were about to start the memories over... could he? "H... Hey... What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only what it means."

"Do you need to be so cryptic?" Jack asked, his shoulders slumped.

Sandy stopped. "I am trying not to be, but it is... difficult for me. I'm not used to explaining things this much, and... besides, have you ever met a dream that was _easy_ to understand?"

"You're not a dream, Sandy."

At that, the older Spirit threw his head back and laughed. It was a warm, rich sound; the first time Jack had heard its like, and it was strange because he couldn't figure out what was so funny.

Sandy shook his head and continued walking.

"Oookay..." Jack was going to have to trust that whatever came next wasn't anything bad. Sandy certainly didn't look worried.

At the center of the huts was a bonfire surrounded by the Elder, the hunters, and a handful of women. Pouchsnooper arrived at the same time as the two Spirits. _"The stranger is dead,"_ he announced gravely.

Sandy tilted his head and looked around at them, confused. _"I... I am here."_

Jack rolled his eyes as Sandy stepped up to the young man and tried to tap him on the shoulder. _"I am here..."_

Sandy gasped and leaped back when his hand went through. He clutched it to his chest as though it pained him. Jack's heart went out to the young Spirit. He remembered that soul-shattering shock all to well, and he hastened to snap Sandy out of it. However, Sandy saw this movement and shook his head. He was somehow both in and out of the memory at the same time.

_"What do we do with the body?" _ one of the hunters asked. _"Do we bury him as our own?"_

The Elder stroked his beard. _"I believe that would be best."_

_"I do not,"_ Pouchsnooper interjected. This earned him hard glares from most of the group, but an intrigued glance from the Elder. At the old man's prompting, he continued. _"The stranger said he came from the Sea. I believe he should be returned to it."_

A murmur went up around the fire and an older hunter said, _"Too dangerous."_

_"It is only three days."_

Jack blinked. They were that close to the Red Sea? Sandy had come almost full circle.

_"The body will stink when touched by Sun," _argued another. _"Animals will smell it and come for you."_

Pouchsnooper (whom Jack was growing respect for) looked them all over cautiously until the Elder nodded at him. _"He was a fish, and then a man. He may now be something else, something that will watch over us while we return him to the Sea. He spoke of his people at the end. He wanted to return, and I will give that to him."_

The group bowed their heads and began to quietly, almost reverently discuss this notion.

Jack turned to Sandy and said, "Did everyone used to this naive?"

"No one could imagine the world as anything but what it was, and so if someone told a tale, no matter how strange, it had to be true."

"But _you_ lied," Jack pointed out.

Sandy smirked at him. "We could all lie. Only I could lie about having been a fish."

Jack would have said something else, but the Elder put his hand up for silence. _"His story was odd, but whether it was true or not, I do not doubt that he came from the Sea. He saved I know not how many children, so we should do what we can for him, and since he is dead, all we can do is return him to it. Three should do this. Who will go?"_

Pouchsnooper predictably volunteered, along with two of the younger hunters. Jack watched the proceedings with a bored expression until Sandy took his arm and pulled him away.

The returned to the river downstream from the village. "I did as they said," Sandy explained. "I followed them to the Sea and kept animals at bay, but you can use your powers to get us to there in less then a day."

Jack grinned at this prospect, but cocked his head to the side. "Wait... why don't you make something out of Dreamsand? We can be there in minutes."

But Sandy shook his head. "I can't. Not yet."

"Are you okay?"

"Oh yes." Sandy clapped his hands together with an eager smile. "Now, what will you make this time?"

Jack shrugged. "I liked the dog. I guess I'll just make him again."

"But... you did that already..." Sandy looked oddly disappointed, his eyes wide and sad.

Jack was surprised by this reaction, but he thought back to those nights he spent chasing Sandy around the world. Every time the Sandman had needed transport he made something different, almost like it was a game...

Cracking a toothy grin, Jack said, "Alrighty then. What do you suggest?"

Sandy smiled and fell into deep thought for about two seconds before announcing, "A giant flying sea turtle."

Jack's eyes bugged and he laughed nervously. "I don't think I can do flying without the Wind's help. Sorry Sandy."

Undeterred, Sandy waved him off and went back to thinking.

Jack pondered the possibilities as well. "How about a polar bear?"

"If you wish to be obvious..." Sandy teased good naturedly.

"Ouch!" He clutched his chest in mock hurt.

Sandy ignored him and started spouting his thought process out loud: "A whale? No... too big... A dinosaur with a saddle... Hmm... An Alicorn? Definitely not." ...and so on.

Once he realized what Sandy was doing, Jack was impressed. He had been dragged away from a macabre scene and a deeply troubling series of events, only to be enticed into exactly the sort of silly game he loved. And it was working! Although his amusement couldn't completely drown out his stress, he certainly felt much better.

The question was, did Sandy know he was doing it or not?

"A house on bird legs! No, no... Do not like Baba Yaga."

...Probably.

Jack thought about it seriously this time. Anything ice themed would be dismissed, so... the opposite? Well, they were in Africa; any of the local wildlife would work, but Sandy seemed to be after something more bazaar then usual.

"Wait," Jack interrupted. "I've got one."

Smirking, he slammed his staff down and willed his frost towards the river. The water was fresh, so the formation of his Frostling was easier and he could focus more on details. Individual snowyflaky feathers, designs on the harness, and filigree in the wood-like ice...

When he was done, he had created a large ostrich hitched to a Roman style chariot.

Sandy wore an expression of pure joy. "I love it!"

* * *

It was nice to be on the move again, even if it was by an unconventional means. Jack discovered he could keep his Frostling from melting by giving it the occasional blast of power, and this, coupled with the bird's superior speed, got them to their destination in a matter of hours.

The sun was setting when they pulled up on the beach. As expected, the hunters arrived at the same time, dragging a large bundle wrapped in grass and leaves behind them.

The two Spirits watched silently as together they lifted their package and waded into the water. They went up to their chests before giving it a push and letting go. It was quickly swallowed by the waves. The men said nothing while they swam back to shore, nor when they wandered away from the beach to make camp.

Sandy finally broke the silence. "There," he said. He was looking towards the northeast. Now that the sun had set, an eerie and familiar yellow light could be seen on the horizon.

Jack finally understood; they were returning to Sandy's island. Without saying a word, he urged the ostrich out onto the Sea.

He could feel the tension rising the closer they got to the island. He didn't know what was going to happen when they got there, but he did know that if it was anything bad, there would be nothing he could do to stop it.

Sandy, who had been enjoying the salty breeze, noticed this and said, "You can relax. I am only going to fall asleep for a little while."

Jack sighed and leaned his arms on the front of the chariot. "Thanks," he said with a small smile.

They were almost there. As they reached the island Sandy had Jack stop on the shore.

Everything was dead. Except for the light that shone from its center, the once vibrant isle was a lifeless grey, and there must have been a fire at some point because the only things to break up the monotony of the sand were a scattering of burned and rotten logs. Nothing had ever grown back.

"I would like to walk from here," Sandy said vacantly. He stepped down from the chariot and as soon as his feet touched the ground, the sand beneath them began to glow. A sporadic whirl of gold spread from where he stood, as well as from each step he took after that, until he was leaving an ever widening trail up the beach. Some of the sand was even rising off the ground in mist-like eddies.

Jack dismissed his Frostling, which startled him by bursting into a flurry of snow. He froze, embarrassed, the snowflakes gathering on his shoulders and head, but Sandy barely spared him a glance. He brushed himself off and followed his friend.

Neither of them spoke as they approached the glowing heart of the isle. It was the crater, of course, alive with a hurricane of Dreamsand. It was pulsating like a beating heart, but it gradually faded as Sandy got closer and by the time he reached the crater there was nothing left but shadows. Sandy turned and looked back the way he came. The trail he had been leaving was almost gone. Soon only a ten foot circle remained spread around him.

He stepped into the crater, but nothing happened. He stared up at the moon with pleading eyes. At last he sighed and laid down, curled up, mashed his eyes shut, and slowly, very slowly fell asleep.

The moment it happened, Jack had to jump out of the way, because the crater engulfed the sleeping Spirit and erupted in gold. The light spread rapidly, covering the entire island and even dissolving the dead logs into sand. Once the whole area was Dreamsand it began to shift like the stirrings of a waking beast. It morphed and stretched until it resembled a galaxy, with coiling arms stretched into the Sea.

Once this metamorphosis was complete, the movement did not cease. The isle had become a living, ever shifting place.

Sandy didn't wake up.

Jack tried digging him up with no luck, and would have settled for waiting patiently if the stars hadn't begun to go out. "Come on Sandy! What're you doing?!" he demanded. Even the moon winked out. The waves stopped lapping at the newly jagged shore. There was no longer a world beyond the little island.

He was beginning to panic, but he sat down cross-legged, slapped his hands on his knees, and forced himself to remain calm. "It'll be fine. Sandy won't leave you hanging, and he said he'd only be asleep a little while."

Of course Sandy had also said years meant nothing to him, and had proven himself perfectly capable of lying. "He wouldn't lie to you like that."

He took a deep breath and let it out. With calm, came boredom, and with nothing to alleviate that boredom, he starred to nod off.

* * *

Something was too bright, even though Jack's eyes were shut. He squinted and then opened them slowly.

The moon was back!

Not only that, but the Man in the Moon was casting a powerful beam of light on the spot where Sandy had been gobbled up by the crater. Jack nearly wept from relief.

The Moonbeam grew in density as it peeled Dreamsand away in layers.

_It's trying to wake Sandy up, _Jack thought. He watched, enraptured as solid light patiently fought with living sand in order to cut a massive hole in the island. This new pit grew bigger and deeper until Sandy was fully exposed at the bottom of it.

Sandy refused to be awoken. He curled into a tighter ball, scrunched his eyes shut, and threw an arm out.

"Whoa!" Jack stared up in awe as a thousand foot pillar of sand pushed the Moonbeam back and then toppled, turning to a fine mist that filled the night.

Sandy rolled over and pulled his Dreamsand over himself like a giant, grainy blanket.

But the Man in the Moon was determined. He sent his light back down to Earth, more gently this time. It touched the surface of the living island and shimmered in quick patterns. He was trying to talk to the very sand.

Jack couldn't hear any of what was being said, but he figured it worked when the Dreamsand began to rise and spin, forming into another one of those hurricanes. It spun more rapidly then he had ever seen, and at its heart he could make out the silhouette of a person. The whirlwind grew smaller as the body grew denser and brighter, brighter, too bright to look at directly.

Jack was nearly blinded and had to shield his eyes. When the spots faded and he was sure the light was gone, he cautiously peered over his arm.

His jaw dropped.

There was the same Sandy who slumbered beneath the island, only his skin was pale and smooth, almost like porcelain, or... or compressed sandstone! The gold swirls on his right shoulder looked less like scares on skin, and more like they were chiseled into rock. He even wore replicas of his furs that were made out of Dreamsand.

Jack should have seen this coming, really. As crazy a notion as it was, it also made a scary sort of sense.

Sandy was a dream...

* * *

**None can wake a Sandman who does not wish to be woken.**


	8. Fear

**Sorry the delay. These aren't going to be coming out as quickly from now on, but I will be putting out at least one chapter a month.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Fear

Sandy was just as startled by his new form as Jack was. He held his hands in front of his eyes and wiggled his fingers, marvelling at the smooth stone that flexed and moved like living flesh. His expression grew troubled and he shut his eyes, clenched his fists in front of him, and concentrated. His skin began to darken into a deeper gold, but when he relaxed it went pale again. He was also floating several feet off the ground.

As soon as he realized his defiance of gravity, he dropped to the ground and landed in a graceful crouch.

Through all of this Jack watched, speechless as he was struck by the complexity of it all. "A dream within a dream..."

Sandy suddenly remembered his presence and turned to him.

"You were already dreaming when we got trapped inside a dream?! And now you're dreaming again?" He stopped babbling and pressed a hand to his forehead. "That's insane! Just... wow..."

With a smirk, Sandy opened his mouth to say something, but it turned into a frustrated, and silent sigh when no sound came out.

Jack's face fell. "You can't talk?"

The Sandman shook his head. "Sand cannot talk," he said, then his eyes widened. "Wait..."

The two of them stared at each other in confusion until comprehension crossed Sandy's features and he put one finger up. "We are still in my Dreamspace."

"So, don't question it if you don't want a headache?"

"Precisely."

Eager to be on his way, the Sandman began walking towards shore, but his companion's mind was still busy.

Jack stared at the ground, under which his friend slumbered. "But the real Sandy is here."

Sandy stopped abruptly. "I _am_ the real Sandy," he said with an edge. "This form is no more a falsehood than your frost."

But Jack's thoughts were on a different matter. "If you're really here, then that means you didn't actually die."

With a furrowed brow, Sandy said, "Of course I did. You saw-"

"Not that."

He was blinking at Jack with increased confusion.

The younger Spirit continued. "When we were fighting Pitch; when he hit you with that arrow."

His confusion only grew and was now mingled with mild horror. "You thought I died?"

"Yeah!" Jack through his arms out to his sides. "Sandy, you vanished into a cloud of black sand! What were we supposed to think?"

Sandy was trying to shrink himself again and did not answer.

"Instead you... what? Ended up in a nightmare? I understand wanting to keep your personal stuff personal, but this is something you should have told at least _one_ of the others. If we'd known, we could've helped you, instead of... mourning." His voice broke.

Sandy winced, but then his eyes sharpened and he straightened his back, standing tall. "If it is an apology you wish, then I will freely give one, but no one else can know of this. Even that _you_ know is too much."

Jack balked at that. "But the Guardians... they were devastated. It effected all of us."

The skin around Sandy's eyes tightened, but he remained firm. "Will you tell them?"

"No." The Winter Spirit glared. "But _you_ should."

"I will not," said Sandy with harsh finality.

Jack drew in a breath. He should have let it drop right there; he knew it, but going so long without proper conversation had left him lacking in finesse. Instead he scoffed and muttered, "And I thought I had trust problems."

As soon as he said it, his throat closed and he wished he could take it back. He cautiously peered through his bangs, fearful of how angry Sandy would be.

Only the Sandman didn't look mad at all. He was tiredly rubbing at his eyes as he said, "This is not a matter of trust, but one of protection. There are hundreds of thousands of Spirits scattered throughout this world, and a good number of them are far from altruistic. Becoming one of us means gaining great power, but some forget their purpose and desire more; they covet ability and belief that is not theirs."

That gave Jack pause. "You've been attacked," he said guiltily.

Sandy nodded. "This," he placed his hand on his chest, "is my greatest strength, but also my most terrible weakness. The Dreamsand of this island protects me while I sleep, but if anyone ever discovered a way around it, well... a man who never wakes up would make an easy target. There are some beings... most ancient and cruel... If the others knew of this secret, and even a whisper of it escaped, they would become targets. This is what you now risk."

"And you think we can't handle it?" He sighed. They probably couldn't. They couldn't even handle Pitch without Sandy. He didn't know why he was getting so angry about this. He was doing exactly what he promised he wouldn't, but this was huge; too huge for even the Sandman to bear alone.

"You could, _if_ the fight was fair."

Jack nodded. After all, one nearly believer-less Spirit had almost defeated the entire assemblage of Guardians purely through cunning and guile, and Jack had met enough of the Spirit population to know that plenty of them were as horrible as they were clever. Sandy was more powerful than any of them, but something like this would make a dangerous weapon.

He couldn't help but feel he was handling this as poorly as everything else.

Sandy stared pensively at him in his morose state before saying, "I do appreciate your concern for me. Perhaps you would feel better to know that there is one who has long been aware of my... ah... little secret?"

Jack looked up, curious and wary. This was the first information that Sandy volunteered without being asked.

"Her name is Atargatis."

A pair of snowy eyebrows rose in surprise. "The Sea Witch?"

This made the Sandman chuckle softly. "You know her?"

"Only by reputation." The Mermaid Queen. She was in the same category as Sandy: older and stronger then anyone. From what Jack had heard, she was also one of the most dangerous Spirits, and was even rumoured to be the one who sank Atlantis. Knowing this, he had steered clear of her.

Sandy smiled. "Then you should understand how important it is to refer her as the Spirit of the Seas. Her reputation is mostly born from what she does to those who call her things like 'Sea Witch.'"

With a gulp, Jack said, "Point taken."

There was little else to be said. If Sandy's implication was true, than anyone who messed with his sleeping form would get a typhoon down their throat and a tsunami up the other end. Though how someone as kind and gentle as Sandy ended up on good terms with a temperamental ocean of fury like Atargatis, Jack could only guess.

They reached the water and Sandy experimented with his sand until he had a small cloud that he could stand on. He started floating away when he noticed that Jack wasn't following.

Jack was about to say something, but Sandy spoke first. "I... have not seen you fly since we got here. Is something wrong?"

The Winter Spirit was practically hugging his staff to his chest as he debated with himself on how to answer. A part of him was terrified at the thought of admitting his vulnerability, while another part was telling him he was being a hypocrite. Steeling himself, he said, "I don't fly. My staff gives me a connection to the Wind. It carries me, and... it's not here."

Sandy tilted his head and mulled that over. "That... is impressive."

Jack perked up, but also looked confused.

"The Wind was one of the first things to be personified," he went on, "but it's... choosy. I could never get it to speak with me. In fact the only Spirit I know of that it does speak to is Mother Nature herself."

Jack scratched the back of his neck. "It's kinda my best friend. For a long time... it was my only friend."

He didn't expect the look of understanding that crossed his companion's face.

"We may be in my Dreamspace, but we are both dreaming," said Sandy. "If you concentrate on what you know of the Wind, you may be able to manifest it."

"How?" Jack didn't want to get too hopeful, but being able to fly again would be great.

Sandy smirked and said, "Oh I don't know... imagine a door?"

This earned an eye roll from Jack. "I think I've got it," said the Winter Spirit. He shut his eyes and focused on his memories of his oldest friend: the first time he was flung into the air, the soft voice (almost not there) that would carry him news and conversations from other Spirits, the rush of crossing the world on a break-neck Jet Stream. He held out his arms and imagined it ghosting over his fingers and lifting him, and he cackled when it did just that.

He was off like a shot over the Sea with Sandy easily keeping up. As exhilarated as he was to be back in the air, he stopped once he reached the coast. The land had changed. The wetlands were gone and, though there was still lush green along the shore, a great deal of what he could see from his high altitude looked to be on its way to becoming desert.

"What happened?"

"Time," Sandy answered gravely from beside him.

Jack frowned at him. "I thought you said you only slept for a little while."

"Did I?"

_"Sandy!"_

The Sandman put up his hands in supplication. "I meant by what you would experience."

Jack grunted and ran a hand over his face. "Right. Of course. And I'm guessing you don't know how ago this was?"

"You're catching on," Sandy chirped. In a more serious tone he said, "However I do know this was about 10,000 years ago. People today call this the 'Dawn of Civilization,' but I consider it the dawn of something else entirely." He sounded almost bitter.

Struck speechless once more, Jack only watched as he floated away. Sandy hadn't been kidding when he said he slept through most of it. He had spent at least 50,000 years unconscious under an island, and technically he never woke up.

Sandy was getting away, and Jack felt a strange tug to follow. Moments later the two came upon a village.

The contrast with before was startling. These people wore beads, bone piercings, and rudimentary robes made of rough fabric. They drew on themselves and on their mud huts with charcoal. A group of them were sitting around a fire and listening to a fanciful story, and some of the women were singing their children to sleep. Culture had never been so comforting.

It was dusk when the Spirits arrived, and Sandy strayed into the village looking utterly baffled by it all. He was tracing his fingers over the patterns on a hut when a young man walked right through him. He skirted around people after that.

Then, as the stars came out, a dusting of Dreamsand flowed from the east and curled into the huts. A quick peek inside them revealed children happily sleeping with images of animals, games, and strange creatures dancing above their heads.

"Your Dreamsand spreads on its own?" asked Jack.

Sandy sighed contentedly and watched as the Sand continued West. "Every grain is a part of my own dream, and sharing it is to me like breathing. I can control it if I choose, but I don't need to."

"Then why do you go around the world?"

Sandy shrugged. "It gives me comfort."

His eyes sharpened and he jerked into the air, turning north.

Jack was about to ask what was wrong, but Sandy was already gone. He had to move double time to catch up as they headed into colder climates, and when they stopped only minutes later, he estimated they were somewhere along the Northern Mediterranean.

He gasped as they set down. There had been some sort of community here, but everything was either burned or toppled, and the mangled inhabitants littered the ground. Jack shuddered and closed his eyes, but it didn't help. Images of the Revolution and the Civil War flashed behind his lids.

"You can wait in the woods if you like," came Sandy's sympathetic voice.

Jack bit his lip, shook his head, steeled himself, and opened his eyes once more. "I'm fine."

Sandy gave him a dubious look before floating over to a thicket at the edge of the carnage and pushing some of the brush aside. There on the ground was a small child, curled up beneath a single bit of fur. She was asleep, shivering and whimpering, and the sand that floated above her head was black.

It wasn't in any particular shape, but was more an incongruous mass of fighting bodies. Sandy only hesitated a moment before poking at it. Wherever his fingers rested, the small Nightmare turned gold, but it didn't spread, and it faded back to black when he removed his touch. In response, he cupped it in both hands, covering as much of it as he could. The little girl relaxed and sighed.

"What is this?" came a high, hissing voice from the shadows. Both Spirits shuddered. It was an eerie, cold sound full of impossible clicking syllables, and unlike the language of the ancient people, it didn't sound human at all.

The startled Sandman leaned protectively over the child as he searched for the source of the interruption. From the shadows stepped a small inkblot of a creature that had the wrong number of spindly legs, twitching fingers, and empty, white eyes.

"A Fearling," said Jack.

The Sandman nodded. "That is one of its names." His eyes hardened in a way Jack never thought possible and he glared at it with what could only be pure hatred.

_"It brings the sleepy dust,"_ it said, tilting its head left and right at a mad pace._ "It ruins my work. Turn it black. Turn it black."_

It shaped its head like a lion's and lunged at him, causing him to lash out with a suddenly manifested spear. Unfortunately, when the creature rammed it, the Dreamsand began to turn black and fall away. It passed through unharmed and managed to wrap its fingers around Sandy's wrist, making him gasp silently and smack it away. His skin didn't change, but he still clutched his hand to his chest in pain.

The Fearling picked itself up and started its head tilting again._ "What is this? What isss thisss?"_

He was beginning to realize he couldn't fight this thing. He looked over his shoulder at the little girl. Her dream was turning black once more.

Making a split decision, he attacked relentlessly, conjuring spears and sheets of sand and making more when they faded. Soon he had the creature angry and frustrated. When it screamed at him, he began to back off, and it followed. Suddenly he made his sand take the form of wings sprouting from his back and rocketed into the air, the Fearling hot on his heels and Jack not far behind. He soared at top speed, but when he looked back, he grew alarmed. It was gaining on him.

Jack tried blasting it, but his ice fell harmlessly away. He couldn't help in this situation. It was all up to Sandy.

The Fearling managed to get ahold of the Sandman's ankle, making him shudder in pain and drop a little. Steadying himself, he banked east and headed towards the Mediterranean Sea, passing over it just as his wings turned black and left him. he plummeted. The Fearling let go just before he hit the water, and it circled the rippling surface as he sank like the stone he was.

"No!" Cried Jack. The creature was moving on, so Jack landed where it had been, crouched on the ice that formed under his feet, and stared down into the abyss. He could see nothing; no faint light, no gold. "No... no... no..." He was panicking irrationally now, dashing back and forth in a desperate search for some sign of his friend.

When the ice started cracking, it never crossed his mind to fly away. Instead he froze in fear, memories of his death flooding his mind... only this time he had failed, and he was going to die in vain. His support broke. he sank into the darkness, and stared up at the Moon, at the ice that was closing above him. He wasn't really drowning, but his heart didn't care. It was in the cold grip of dread.

Something had his arm. He sprang to life and pushed it off, swimming for the ice covered surface, but it was futile. No matter how much he pounded on it or hit it with his staff, the barrier would not break. He tried swimming to the edge, but the ice spread over him however far went. He was going blind with fear. The water was growing darker and colder, and he was never getting out. Something had him again. It was wrapping around him, pinning his arms to his sides, and when he thrashed, it only tightened its grip.

Then the water was leaving him, pulled away by an unnatural power. He was no longer floating, but lying partially on the ground and partially in a warm embrace. His heart slowed, but his chest tightened. He was being held the way he barely remembered his parents holding him when he was small and the howling Wind woke him up, and a soothing voice was telling him he would be alright. He clutched at the silky, grainy fabric he was resting against. It was no longer firs, but flowing robes.

"S... Sandy?" he managed to croak.

The grip on him was loosened in relief. "Yes Jack. I am here."

"My staff?" He wasn't holding it. He would feel better with its rough bark against his palm.

Sandy leaned over a little and then the source of Jack's power was being placed in his hand. Jack sat up and hugged it to his chest. He also put a little distance between himself and Sandy, feeling awkward. "What... what happened?"

"You were afraid, and that fear altered my Dreamspace."

He shuddered. Feeling that he owed an explanation, he said, "Falling through the ice... drowning... it's... how I died. I saved my sister, but I couldn't save myself. When I saw you go under, I thought..." He stopped and hung his head. It sounded so stupid now, that he had though an immortal Spirit could drown.

Sandy didn't say anything. He seemed to understand.

"Where are we?" Jack said instead. He looked around the small, dark space they were taking up, but couldn't figure it out.

Sandy looked around as well, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "No place really, but I would like it to be... an elevator."

As soon as he said it, the overhead lights flickered on to reveal the interior of an old fashioned elevator. The walls were either panelled wood or mirror, and there was a brass wraparound handgrip at waist height. On the control panel was a single button: an arrow pointing up.

"Only one way to go," said Sandy, and he pressed the button.

As the elevator shuddered to life, Jack asked, "What happened to that girl?"

Sandy alleviated his fear of the answer by smiling. "I returned to find there were survivors of her tribe who had gone to battle. She was reunited with them."

"That's good." Though he didn't really feel so great. "Where are we going now?"

Sandy shrugged. _Brilliant_.

There was a ping and the doors shuffled open, revealing a moonless night and a stone road lined with impressive buildings. Sandy's eye twitched as he recognized this place, and he gave Jack an odd look and a nod as he stepped out into the ancient city. "We are in India," he said without prompting. "In a few thousand years, Toothiana will be born not far from here."

Jack was surprised by that. "There were cities like this that long ago?" He looked over his shoulder to find the elevator was gone, of course he was expecting that.

"Oh yes," Sandy answered stiffly. "There were several." He was distracted, his head shifting left and right and his eyes scanning the plentiful shadows.

Suddenly something darted past Jack and attacked the Sandman from behind. It hit him in the back and knocked him to his knees, but he was quick to react with his sand and knock it away. He stood and formed a pair of swords.

The next attack also came from behind, but he was ready. He ran the Fearling through with one of his weapons and actually seemed to damage it before the blade turned black. It screamed in a high, animal wail, fell writhing onto the ground at Sandy's feet, and melted into the shadows. He reformed the sword as the next attack came.

Jack stood back and watched in awe. There had to be dozens of those things and Sandy was handling them like a seasoned warrior.

That is, until they started forming together into a giant inky mass that took up the entire street. It expanded even from there and rose into a breaking wave that was going to crash down on the lone Spirit.

Jack shouted for Sandy to move, but the Sandman only stood his ground and closed his eyes.

Jack flew forward to knock Sandy out of the way, but before he or the black wave of fear could reach his friend, something else did. A thin figure blinked in front of Sandy that shone pure white and brighter than a hundred suns.


	9. A Light in the Night

**I thought I should put a note at the start of this chapter for anyone who hasn't read the books, specifically the Sandman picture book. In it there are mermaids that become enraptured with Sandy's island and later help him out. Part of this chapter is my take on this.**

**And yes, I am taking a lot of this story from the books, but anyone who hasn't read them will still have no problem following.**

* * *

Chapter 9: A Light In the Night

The screams were deafening, but they ended quickly and when the light faded, the Fearlings were gone. Instead, in front of Sandy there stood a rake of a boy, no older then ten or eleven. His stance was wide and determined and he was bracing a thin staff, almost double his height and tipped with a crystal, against the ground as he stood with his back to the ancient Spirit. He laughed at the retreat of the Fearlings. It was a sound that Jack felt high in his chest, bright and crisp like bells.

He had to be a Spirit as well. Not many children could ward off a horde of monsters, and even fewer of them went around looking like they were made of mist and light. The boy's skin and clothes were ghostly, though not transparent. His hair was white like Jack's, but longer and messier, and his eyes were a bright silver.

When he turned and realized Sandy was staring at him, he froze like a deer in the headlights. Slowly he floated over and reached out a tentative, trembling hand. Sandy was still as well, and both of them were holding their breath, uncertain of what would happen and what it would mean. After a beat, the boy nudged Sandy's very solid shoulder, causing both of them to jump back.

Sandy's face hardened into something stony, but his eyes were wide and his pupils narrowed. His feet left the ground and he moved towards the boy. The young Spirit went from cautious excitement to fear, and before Sandy could get close to him, he vanished in a streak of light across the sky.

Sandy hung frozen in the air, one arm extended, a forlorn expression across his features. As he let gravity pull him down, he curled his outstretched fingers into a fist that he pressed against his chest. Jack couldn't tell if that stricken look belonged to the past, the present, or both.

"Who was that?" Jack asked.

In a broken voice, Sandy muttered something that sounded vaguely Middle Eastern and though the literal meaning was along the lines of _Light in the Night, _Jack's brain supplied the more familiar term, _Nightlight._

Dread settled into Jack's heart. Sandy's sadness, along with the fact that Jack had never heard of a Spirit of Light, meant that something must have happened to the boy. Something terrible...

Sandy was staring at the Moon, his face stony once more. He looked down at the ground before tiredly closing his eyes, and with them shut, he made his way into a shadowed alley. When they opened again, it was to settle on a group of five raggedly dressed urchins huddled into a doorway.

The tallest of them, a boy of around Jack's physical age, surprised the Winter Spirit by moving from his position protecting the others and saying, _"Are they gone?"_

Sandy didn't smile at him as he would have in the present. His face was stern as he nodded.

The child tentatively stepped forward. _"You... you saved us?"_

Expression softening at that, Sandy raised his hand to summon some sand that danced around the children's heads and lulled them into sweet dreams.

He sighed. A gigantic serpent of sand formed beneath him as he fell back and sat cross legged on its head. It lifted off into the sky, swimming through the clouds the way its living counterparts would swim through water.

It wasn't moving at Sandy's usual speed, so Jack was able to easily keep up. He flew along side his friend, staring silently until he couldn't keep it in any longer. "They could see you."

It almost sounded like an accusation.

Sandy twitched. Clearly he had forgotten that Jack was there. "I don't need to be believed in to be believed in."

_"Sandy!" _Jack practically whined.

Sandy offered him an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he said. "To elaborate, whether or not one believes in the Sandman, as long as they believe in their dreams, they believe in me. Sometimes even the rare adult can see me." He said it with weight, as though it was a burden.

"Must be nice..." Jack tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but there it was.

Sandy looked away and softly said, "So one would think."

Mentally kicking himself, Jack settled on the back of the serpent and watched the once more mournful Sandman. He thought carefully about what his friend could mean by that. How could the one thing he had tried for 300 years to gain possibly be a bad thing. Then it hit him. They way that Light Spirit had fled. They way those kids had looked at Sandy, even the one who had spoken...

"They were scared of you..."

Sandy sighed. "Sometimes you are too astute," he said without malice. "And yes. Ever since the beginning, those who could see me feared me."

Jack was shaken by this revelation. He ran a hand through his hair as he said, "But why? I mean, sure... you're a little intimidating like this, but you're no Boogieman."

Sandy looked over his shoulder with an amused smirk. "I was a tall, living statue with a perpetually dour expression, a habit of floating, and an outfit made of glowing sand. To even the most whimsical mind, I was something they had never seen before." His smile vanished. "And there is nothing humanity fears more then the unfamiliar. After awhile I simply stayed away."

Jack sat silent and frozen for a long moment before lowering his head and squeezing the bark of his staff until his knuckles turned white.

"What's on your mind?" Sandy asked with a touch of warning in his voice.

"That you must think I'm a huge brat." Jack couldn't believe he had ever complained about his piddley little 300 years of sorta solitude now that he knew what Sandy had gone through. He felt like a whiny heel.

Sandy turned in his seat to face Jack and said, "Our situations were vastly different."

Peering from under his bangs, Jack snorted. "The only difference is time. You spent so much longer alone-"

"I was alone," Sandy cut him off, "because I was the only one of my kind, but I knew my purpose and I was determined to serve it. With all the work I did and all the battles I fought, I assure you the years passed very quickly. That has nothing to compare to existing without knowing who you are or why you're here. Being alone is not the same as being ignored or rejected by your own kind."

Jack sucked in a breath as moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes. He had never voiced these woes to anyone other then the Man in the Moon, so Sandy could only have known about his feelings by taking notice long before the young Spirit joined the Guardians. "I didn't think anyone even cared that I existed," he choked.

"Of course I cared," Sandy said with a kind and sad smile. "I cared from the first time we met, but whenever I tried to offer you company you kept your distance."

Jack shuddered, clutching his staff to his shoulder. "I thought you were too busy, and... I blasted you in the face with ice. Why... why didn't you say anything?"

"I tried..." Sandy's shoulders slumped and he averted his eyes.

Of course... Sandy couldn't speak and Jack didn't understand his symbols; had never even attempted to understand them. He pitched forward with a groan and mashed his palms into his forehead. Not only had he caused himself years of misery by ignoring a potential friend, but now he had made Sandy feel bad about something that wasn't his fault.

"How do I keep messing up like this?" he muttered. He was supposed to be helping someone out of a dire situation, not continuously wallowing in his own problems. He had to be the worse person that Sandy could get stuck with.

A warm hand brushed his shoulder. "This is a difficult situation for both of us, and you're doing fine."

"Right," he said with borderline sarcasm. He wasn't going to contradict that statement because he knew it would lead to an argument, so he left it at that.

In a hurry to change the subject, he looked around and took stock of where they were. "Returning to your island?"

Assuming he had won the moment, Sandy broke into a pleased smile. "Yes. I'm about to meet one of my oldest friends."

"Huh? Who?"

"We already spoke of her."

Jack felt his stomach drop out.

_The Sea Witch..._

"You're in for quite a show," Sandy said merrily as he banked towards the speck of gold that stood out like a star against the water.

* * *

Sandy immediately noticed the trespasser, and as he approached her with angry purpose, Jack gasped.

The Winter Spirit had never seen a Mermaid in person, but he had seen pictures, read the literature, and even watched that one Disney movie a few dozen times, but the creature that lounged on the shore of Sandy's island was nothing like what they led him to believe.

First of all, instead of a tail, she had long thin legs that were curled under her as she toyed with the figures of sand that were trying to put her to sleep. She kept poking them so they would break apart and reform into something else, and as she did this, she sang a simple song in a voice that could melt even Pitch's black heart. It was the picture of childlike innocence and wonder.

That was the second thing; she _was_ a child. It was hard to tell, but she had to be physically younger then Jack was, and she still had that stringy quality unique to pre-teens.

Thirdly she had an unnatural beauty about her. She had dark eyes, skin the colour and quality of pearl, and red hair that flowed like water and that was woven with shells. The scales she wore were a bright pinkish-orange that sprang out vividly even against the glowing Dreamsand she was sitting on, and that clung to her body more like a fitted dress then fish skin. She had the delicate spines of a lion fish sprouting from her shoulder blades, and from around her waist flowed long, silken fins like the skirt of a Victorian gown. Somehow he ended up comparing her to Toothiana and his heart did a flip at the thought of his fellow Guardian.

Tooth wasn't as thin or delicate as this girl though. The Mermaid brought to mind a rare tropical flower; something that had to be seen to be believed, and that was so delicate, it wilted at the slightest touch.

Yet, when Sandy dropped out of the sky to hover above the water in front of her, the childlike beauty disappeared from her face and was replaced with something that resembled the cold eyes of a shark.

Sandy was unmoved by either her initial loveliness or this new ferocity. He crossed his arms and scowled, his way of demanding an explanation for the intrusion.

What he got was a demand.

_"This is my island! Leave now!" _she said in an ancient tongue. Her spines flattened and her colours darkened. She was completely unafraid of attacking this much larger and older Spirit.

Sandy's eyes widened with shock, and for a single moment he was lost. Without the power of speech, he had no way to tell her to buzz off. Then his face took on a low browed, narrow eyed, furious look that said, *_Oh no you did not!* _

The girl matched him glare for glare. _"I am Atargatis. These are my Seas, this is my island, and if you do not leave now, you _will _regret it."_

Jack covered his mouth to hide his grin and said, "Oh snap!"

With his back straight In a regal pose, his expression cold, and his sand robes billowing around him, it was easy to see why people could be afraid of this version of the Sandman. Without uncrossing his arms, he raised one index finger. The entire beach shifted, lifting the startled Mermaid up and then dumping her into the Sea.

Probably not the best idea. Not a minute later, Sandy was thrown into the air by a geyser that burst up from underneath him. He corrected himself quickly and dodged the next few that sprang forth. Once he was over his island, he was safe to admire the impressive display; there had to be twenty of those geysers spewing water hundreds of feet into the air.

He looked to Jack, who was hovering by his shoulder, mouth agape. "You should probably get to a safe distance."

Jack didn't hesitate to do what he was told. Besides, Sandy seemed more like he was enjoying himself then worried.

The pillars of water receded and were replaced by a massive wave that bore its master at its crest. _"How dare you!" _She screamed in a voice as loud as thunder. She raised her arms, and the wave grew in height until it could swallow the entire island. She moved her arms forward. The wave crashed down to do just that.

Sandy turned down and plummeted into the surface of his sand just as the wave struck.

Seconds later a golden mountain broke through and continued to rise until it was touching the clouds. It then rumbled and erupted, and instead of spewing smoke, and gas, and lava, it spewed Dreamsand; a giant plume of Dreamsand that quickly filled the sky like an ocean unto itself. This sand began to take massive forms: fish, birds, whales, mammoths, and so on. There was Sandy, in front of his volcano, surveying his handiwork.

"Wow..." Jack had no idea that Sandy was this powerful. It made Pitch's terrifying display at Easter look like a joke. Maybe it had something to do with the proximity to this island?

Not to be outdone, Atargatis breached on a controlled stream of water that bent and moved by her will. She wove in and out of the sand creations, aiming for their master. As she neared him, she extended her palms and blasted him with a pressurized jet.

Sandy swiped a hand, and a whale swam in front of him to take the blow. It was torn in half. He made a downward gesture, and a gigantic manta ray used its body to slice through the stream of water, cutting the Mermaid off from the Sea and causing her to fall.

Jack wasn't the only one watching this battle in awe. Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and he looked to find the boy, Nightlight, not far to his left, watching with a mix of rapture and fear. He had every right to be afraid. It was like watching two Gods duke it out.

Up to this point, Sandy was too busy to take note of his surroundings, but as Atargatis fell, he happened to look up in the right direction. He was in the moment and stared right through Jack, seeing only Nightlight.

The boy gasped, but didn't flee this time. Instead he pointed to a spot beyond Shandy's right shoulder.

Sandy looked just in time to dodge his opponent's next blow. He personally cut her stream off with a sword this time. When he looked back, the boy was gone.

Atargatis was done playing around. When she reappeared from beneath the waves she was standing atop a sort of pedestal of surf. She closed her eyes, threw her head back, and her arms out to her sides, and dark, evil looking clouds began to gather in the sky. She was creating one of her infamous typhoons.

The storm gathered quickly and violently, whipping the girl's hair and the Sandman's robes, and turning the already churned Sea into a choppy mess. Sandy watched apathetically. He then extended a hand with the palm down and closed it in a fist. His creations exploded into clouds that expanded and swelled even as they were sucked into the whirling clouds. They took over.

When Atagatis reopened her eyes, it was to find that her storm was transformed into a hurricane of gold, the two Spirits trapped in its eye.

She looked around rapidly, nervousness starting to seep into her expression and posture. Finally she accepted that he had her beat and bowed her head, letting her arms go limp at her sides. Her plinth lowered until she was simply standing on the water.

Sandy dismissed his sand with a wave. Except for a small cloud that formed under his feet, most of it either drifted away or gathered back into his island as it had been before the fight took place. He floated down until he was feet from the Mermaid and crossed his arms once more.

Not looking up, Atargatis said, _"Please forgive me. I did not realize this place belonged to anyone, let alone someone as strong as you." _She went quiet, waiting for him to give his verdict, but it never came.

She dared to look up and found that the ancient Spirit was staring at her with his default serious face. He didn't look angry anymore, but he didn't exactly look friendly either.

_"Will... will you not say anything?"_

Sandy's eyes drifted away as he thought about how to explain himself. Coming to a decision, he placed a hand over his throat and slowly shook his head.

The Mermaid scrunched up her brow, but then she started to understand. _"You cannot talk?"_

He nodded.

_"Oh." _She drooped and managed to look as forlorn as Sandy did. She cast her eyes longingly towards the beach and looked away. _"It is a beautiful island. There is such power here, and the reef... it is perfect. I was a queen... before... I thought to build my kingdom here, but I will not bother you further." _

She started to sink into the waves, but Sandy moved in swiftly and placed his hand on her head. She froze under his touch and tilted her head up, and though his face was as serious as ever, there was a gentle kindness in his eyes. He removed his hand and as his cloud carried him away he gestured for her to follow. She did, and Jack, who had been standing on some ice nearby during this, did so as well.

The island rearranged itself as they approached. It went from a sort of galaxy with many long spiralling arms, to more of a crescent moon shape that formed a grotto around the reef the girl had mentioned. Trees and rocks (made of sand of course) formed out of the beach and at the heart of the island there grew a golden palace that looked like it was made of gigantic shells and coral. Sandy pointed to the palace and to himself. He swept an arm out across the newly formed grotto and put his hand on the girl's shoulder. His meaning was clear. _*The island is mine, but the beach and the reef are yours.*_

Atargatis was a child again when she looked up at Sandy with tears of gratitude in her eyes and a wide smile on her lips. _"Thank you!"_

And for the first time since his death, the Sandy of the past smiled back.

As she dove off to explore her new realm, Jack stepped up and clapped an arm around Sandy's shoulders. "That was really sweet."

Sandy gave him a wry smirk before shrugging him off. "This was a difficult time," he said. "I knew of the Spirits that were beginning to appear, and of darker things. I realized Atargatis was very young. She was drawn to my island because it was protected from all that."

"So you let her stay to keep her safe."

He nodded and his smile grew. "And more often then not, she's the one who keeps me safe. She is a fiercely loyal friend, and this was a decision I have never regretted."

Jack couldn't resist. He had to ask. "Are you... still that powerful?"

Sandy suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Yes," he answered in a flat tone.

"But... then why didn't you..." But Jack stopped. That was a very bad road to go down.

"Because I didn't want to," Sandy said quietly. He knew exactly what Jack was asking. "I don't like relying on such displays of prowess, and by the time I realized I had no choice... it was too late."

Jack sighed. "Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Why?" Sandy frowned at him. "It is a legitimate question. I nearly got you all destroyed with my unwillingness to act. I'm not infallible. I have made plenty of mistakes."

"That's not what's eating you, is it?"

Sandy tensed, almost shuddered, and he wouldn't meet Jack's eyes as he slowly shook his head. The then looked behind himself, and Jack looked as well.

"Aw crap..."

There, standing on the water like an ink stain, was the Shadow.

"What is _it_ doing back?" Jack grumbled. He went from annoyance to concern when Sandy lowered his head in shame.

"I have been avoiding things again," said Sandy.

Jack gulped. The last time the Sandman tried to avoid something in here, it turned out to be his death. What was going to happen this time?

Sand closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked up with more resolve. "We must follow him," he said, and he did just that.

* * *

The world had been filled with mist as they walked, and as it lifted, they found themselves in a different place and a different time.

Jack felt his spirits instantly lift. There was a thick sheet of snow on the ground. The Shadow was gone, and when he looked around, he knew where they were for once.

"Norway!" he cheered. Time couldn't alter the mountains that quickly, and it was nice to be in familiar territory.

However, Sandy did not look pleased. He stayed on the ground rather then floating on a cloud or one of his creations, and he plodded along with a weight that was highly unusual for him. He was also dim. It wasn't as bad as he had been when this mess started, but it was still worrying.

Jack perched in a nearby tree. "You okay?"

Sandy didn't answer. He stopped walking and went very still.

A snowball struck him in the back of the head.

It was followed by bright laughter that Jack instantly recognized; the Spirit of Light was back. He couldn't help his own chuckle, which earned him a glare from his friend.

Sandy was hit a second time.

"I like his style," Jack admitted. He jumped down from his perch and landed next to the disgruntled Sandman.

"He has been pestering me like this for about a hundred years now," Sandy grumbled. He didn't try to seek the kid out, but sighed in resignation and continued on his way. "He knows I can't catch him."

They came to the edge of the mountain and looked out over what would have been an empty valley if not for the faint glow of campfires within the trees. It was a moonless night, and the lazy snowfall absorbed all the sounds of the forest. Silent and eerie...

Jack almost missed that Sandy was speaking.

"There was a massive volcanic eruption near Japan," he said. "The largest I have ever seen. It changed the weather around the world... caused several years of harsh winters. There was so much fear and death, and it gave power to those dark creatures that haunt the Earth. I fought them, but I was waring thin. They are calling me now... They dare me to save those people."

He jumped off the ledge and floated towards the settlement, opting not to use his sand.

Jack followed and asked, "Is it the Fearlings?"

Sandy nodded.

"But what are they? Spirits?"

"No." Sandy took a deep breath and let it out. "People believe in Spirits because we exist, but there are things that exist because people believe in them." He landed on the ground and stopped. "The Fearlings are lurkers in the shadows and bumps in the night. They are all the unknown, nameless fears that people carry in their hearts... I gave the world dreams, and the first thing they did was dream up monsters." It sounded less like an accusation, and more like shame. "And for all my strength, I was vulnerable to them... for I too was afraid."

Jack's heart stopped. He didn't know what to say to that, so he kept his mouth shut and reached out to offer a comforting touch.

He never got the chance.

Sandy conjured a spear and levelled it at the dark creature that had morphed out of the snow. It was staring at him with too many empty eyes, and it spoke with too many terrible voices. _"I knew you would come. You alwayssss do..."_

Sandy took a swing at it, but he was slow and it dodged easily.

_"You look tired. Why not end this? Why not rest?"_

He hit it with his next swing, but it corrupted his weapon.

_"Yesss... Give us the black dust. Give us your power... your fear..."_

It changed then. It went down on all fours and became more solid, more real, and more bestial.

"Oh no..." Jack muttered.

It had taken the form of a lion... a great, black, mangy, maned lion with slavering teeth and mad, desperate eyes.

Sandy faltered, and Jack couldn't blame him.

It approached, snarling and swiping, and though he made another spear with which to defend himself, Sandy gave it ground until his back was against a tree. It lunged, and he closed his eyes to let the end come.

Rather then maul him, the Fearling lion sank its fangs into his sword arm, causing his skin to crack like porcelain.

It screamed as it burst into a ball of light...

The boy was suddenly there! His eyes were huge as he watched the cracks on Sandy's arm turn black and spread.

Sandy was shaking with pain and fear, and his legs were giving out. He sank to the ground with his back against the tree and tried to curl in on himself. Blearily, he looked up. The younger Spirit had a hand outstretched to him and met his eyes with firm expectancy.

Still shuddering, teeth bared, Sandy managed to hold out his arm and place it in the waiting grasp.

The boy created a small ball of light in his free hand and pressed it into the cracks. Sandy winced, but didn't pull away. It worked. The darkness faded and the damage to his skin began to close up.

He drew his arm back and relaxed, leaning his head against the tree.

"You... you okay?" Jack asked nervously.

He nodded. "Tired..."

Jack sighed and settled down next to his friend. He blinked when the boy, Nightlight, sat down as well. He was confused at first, but then he noticed the shadows peering at them from the night.

The boy glowed brighter, and they fled.


	10. The Father of Darkness

**Here's this month's chapter. It's not as long as the last one, but it was a doozie to write.**

* * *

Chapter 10: The Father of Darkness

Nightlight kept up his vigil while his new friend slept, and it was beginning to look like it was going to be a long wait.

Jack yawned. He really wished he could talk to the kid, but he might as well be talking to himself. He yawned again. It was funny how exhausted he could be when he was technically asleep. The world wasn't shifting or skipping ahead, so he decided to use this chance to get some rest.

He awoke to being buried in a heap of snow...

There was chuckling as he spluttered and flailed his way to freedom, and once he caught his breath he said, "Sandy?!"

"I am sorry Jack, but I couldn't resist."

Jack glared and pointed his staff threateningly.

"Now, now..." Sandy put his hands up in surrender. "Consider it revenge for all the times you froze my back. Besides, I didn't think you would be so effected by a little snow."

Jack tried to continue to glare, but a traitorous smirk crept its way onto his lips. "Just 'cause its my element doesn't mean I like being _buried _in it. How would you like to be buried in sand?"

One golden eyebrow rose. "I _am _buried in sand."

"Ugh..." Jack rubbed a hand over his face. "Can you _be _any weirder?"

Sandy stroked his chin as he thought about it.

"Don't answer that." The Winter Spirit finished climbing out of his snow drift and smiled at his brightly glowing friend. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

Sandy smiled back. "It is wondrous what a little sleep can do. Speaking of which." He looked to a spot a few feet from him, and there, curled up in the snow, Nightlight was out cold. Very cold, in fact. He was shivering. There was also a sand llama bouncing around his head.

"Is he okay?" the Winter Spirit asked with suspicion. The boy had been so vigilant that Jack couldn't imagine him falling asleep willingly.

Sandy nodded. "Oh, he's fine. He did not normally sleep, but he used up so much energy defending me that he needed a little rest. Of course I didn't know that at the time." He frowned and produced a rough, woollen blanket seemingly from nowhere that he wrapped the boy in as he picked him up.

Brushing himself off, Jack pointed at it and said, "Where'd that come from?"

"It was covering me when I awoke."

Nightlight must have taken it from the nearby settlement.

Sandy floated into the air and created a reed boat that somewhat resembled a giant, pointy slipper beneath his feet. He propped his cargo up near the front and sat on the lip at the back. There was little room left for Jack, so he sat on the "toe" of the vessel with his feet dangling.

The boat took off at the speed he was finally getting used to.

All was quiet as they headed South, until Jack finally snapped out of whatever trance he had been lulled into and uttered, "Whoa..."

They were over the Sahara. There was nothing but mountainous dunes casting strange shadows up to every horizon and beyond. He couldn't imagine this much sand; this much rippling heat. Not even the ocean could make him feel this small.

"Have you never seen it before?"

He snorted. "Are you nuts?! You couldn't catch me within a thousand miles of this place. It's way too hot."

"Not at night."

He gave Sandy a funny look and shrugged. He had heard that deserts got cold at night, but never felt the urge to test it until he started tailing the Sandman.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

Sandy pointed at the boy. "He was cold. This is one of the hottest places I know."

At this, Jack plucked at his hoodie, examining the frost that clung unmelted to the fabric. "I don't feel it."

"Your mind is protecting you."

With a cheeky grin, Jack said, "You mean my subconscious?"

Sandy scowled. "I am not using that word."

Jack laughed, but it was cut off by the groaning and stirring of their third party.

The boy jolted awake and lifted himself into the air with his staff at the ready like a spear, but Sandy stayed calm and relaxed at the back of the boat and it put him at enough ease to process where they were and what must have happened.

He relaxed as well and dropped down to balance on one foot on the tip of the boat. It was strange how shy and timid he seemed, yet when Sandy smiled at him he grinned back and laughed.

And that was it. Suddenly the boy was radiating pure joy as he danced around the boat on glossy beams of light. He had a friend.

Jack could relate.

Suddenly Nightlight stopped and, his eyes wide with excitement, started beckoning for Sandy to follow him. He moved away slowly at first, afraid that he might not be followed. When Sandy reformed the boat into a giant hawk, the boy smirked and took off at a speed that could barely be matched.

They were going west; further and further west. Soon they left North Africa and moved out over the Atlantic, chasing the sun.

About twenty minutes later, Jack perked up as they approached land. "That was quicker then I thought," said Jack. But as they got closer, he realized it wasn't America he was looking at. It was an island. One he had never seen before.

Which was odd because it was massive and mountainous, and he had criss-crossed the ocean so many times in his 300 years that there was no way he could have missed it.

Nestled against a slightly smoking volcano, was the last thing he expected to see: a city. It wasn't one of the mud-brick, hewn stone, haphazard ones that were the trend in these long ago ages, but rather one of smooth surfaces, towers, and lights.

"Atlantis," said Sandy before the question could be asked.

Jack was in awe. "It looks like a modern city!"

"Modern cities are modelled after the memory of this place."

* * *

They were somewhere in South America. Jack couldn't really tell where. It wasn't exactly an area of the world he frequented.

There were rocky hills and an impressive mountain range in the distance that was quickly getting closer. Nightlight cried out and pointed at a distant cliff where a cluster of huts were clinging to the rocks. It was midday, and they touched down in a small field of gourds outside the village. The boy was wringing his hands, suddenly nervous.

Sandy dismissed his hawk, leaving him holding the blanket, which he offered up when he noticed the boy's fear.

It was accepted with a grateful smile. The crude cloth now bundled against his chest, Nightlight started climbing up the hill. Sandy followed, half walking and half floating.

Jack stopped for a moment and cocked his head. He could hear something. It sounded like voices; shouting. War...

Sandy gave him a knowing smirk and said, "Worry not."

When they crested the rise, there was an impressive sight waiting for them. All of the villagers were crowded around a sort of open town square against the cliff. There was a group of a dozen men in the centre of the commotion, kicking a ball around and trying to hit it through a stone circle wedged into a crack high up on the rock face.

Jack couldn't help but laugh. It was a game! "Looks like fun."

"Indeed," said Sandy. "Nightlight was obsessed with it."

"So he's from here? These are his people?"

The Dreamweaver frowned. "He is from this region," he explained gently, "but he's much older then this culture. He... never spoke of his people."

Jack bowed his head, then nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud growl from directly behind him.

There was someone there, but it was no man. He was broad shouldered, tall and, powerfully built, and for the most part he appeared to be wearing a leopard pelt over his own dark skin. Except that his feline head was one hundred percent real, and was snarling.

Jack recognized him. Mountainheart; a very old, and very grouchy Spirit.

Sandy recoiled, but quickly steeled himself when Nightlight darted behind him.

_"You again!" _the leopard-man roared at the terrified child. _"You think you can keep trespassing?! You think your new friend can protect you from me?! And you!" _He pointed at Sandy, who straightened into a powerful and regal pose. _"Who do you think you are, coming here to my lands?"_

Sandy responded with a cool stare. The feline Spirit marched up to him and leaned down to glare in his eyes, nose to nose. He held his ground; didn't even blink.

The two stayed like that for what felt like hours, but was really only seconds. The leopard-man huffed in the back of his throat. The wrinkling skin that marred his spotted face smoothed out and he backed off, his eyes downcast.

_"You are greater then I," _he said, his voice now soft like a purr. _"Mountainheart is my name. What is yours?"_

Sandy made the same _*I can't speak* _gesture he'd used for Atargatis. He followed it up by waving his hand and conjuring an eddy of Dreamsand.

Mountainheart's eyes narrowed. _"You are the God of the Nightgold?" _He bowed. _"Then I apologize for my rudeness." _He looked to Nightlight, who was peeking out from under Sandy's elbow, and bared his teeth. _"But why are you with this little pest? Why are you here?"_

With a frown, Sandy shifted protectively and pointed at the game that was still going on behind him. Mountainheart came up next to him and looked down at his people just as one of the men scored a goal.

_"The game?"_

Sandy nodded, and Nightlight peeked out again, smiling hopefully and nodding as well.

The leopard-man's face broke into a grin that was almost as terrible as his snarl, and he laughed. _"Come then, and I will explain the rules."_

* * *

The world had done a strange tipping thing while they were watching the game. Sandy and Jack were sitting in the same spots, but the others were gone, and the roof that was their perch was overlooking an arena made of bone and brush.

Jack didn't need to ask what just happened. They had moved on to the next memory, so he sat back and watched this new spectacle.

They were in Africa again, judging by the flat, dry grasslands, and the angry lion in the ring. There was a man in there as well, wielding a spear and a whip against the beast. Interestingly enough, the spectators covered an entire spectrum of skin colours. In fact the surrounding land was covered in an ancient city, and several roads could be seen in the distance, pregnant with travellers.

Sandy was watching the warrior snap his whip with rapt attention, keeping the lion at bay with nothing but a length of leather. He would back the creature up, and then stab at it.

Jack tutted as the people cheered. The poor creature was clearly terrified. "People are animals..."

Shuddering back to the present, Sandy turned to him. "Of course they are."

Jack blinked, baffled.

He chuckled at this. "I was a hunter. I killed my first mongoose when I was five. Even if I don't like it, I do _understand _the human need to spill blood; it's how we survived throughout our entire existence. It is the nature of life to consume life."

Jack grew quiet as he mulled this over. It made sense, and yet he still had trouble associating the cold, hunter side of Sandy with the happy little guy he was familiar with. In the end he gave up, smirked, and said, "You really used to murder cute, helpless critters?"

"Helpless?" Sandy snorted. "You have obviously never faced a mongoose. Evil little things, they are."

While they laughed over that, Nightlight showed up and started tugging on Sandy's arm. It was interesting to note that the boy had cut a hole in his blanket and was wearing it as a poncho.

Sandy and Jack stood up, and Jack asked, "What's wrong?"

Sandy wouldn't meet his eyes. "We are about to meet another of my oldest friends."

He took off with Nightlight, barely giving Jack the chance to keep up with them. They flew a long way north until they were over the Mediterranean, and continued till an island came into view: Crete...

It was early morning, the sky just beginning to grey, and the shore they descended upon was covered in fire and bodies. It looked like a battle had just finished; an invasion from sea that had been fought off. From the looks of it, they never made it up the ridge to the stone city there.

Nightlight moved slowly and cautiously until he spotted something, grabbed Sandy's arm, and dragged him into the trees. From this hiding spot, he pointed and following his finger, Jack gasped.

Standing on the sand over his own body, was a figure Jack couldn't possibly mistake. "It's Pitch!"

"No!" Sandy barked. More calmly, he said, "No. That may look like Pitch Black, but I can assure you, he's not."

"Then who is he?" Jack said a little sharply.

Sandy took a deep breath. "His name is Kozmotis."

With a sigh, Jack said, "And what... he's like, Pitch's brother, or something?"

"Something like that."

They watched as the sun rose, and the people of the island slowly sifted through the dead. The foreigners were piled up on the beach, probably to be burned later, while the locals were reverently carried up to the city. When they finally reached not-Pitch's body, he tried to keep them from taking it, quickly stopped when he passed through, and then followed as it was carried away.

When Jack noticed Sandy and Nightlight going deeper into the trees he went after them only to feel everything shift in that peculiar way that meant the memories were moving forward again. By the time they reached the edge of the forest, the sun had risen and set many times. It finally settled around dusk.

They were hiding in the bushes again, this time at the edge of a field of circular mounds that Jack realized were tombs. They were staring at the Spirit as he sat atop one of the tombs.

"Were you two stalking him?"

"He was dark... like a Fearling." Sandy's shoulders stiffened as he spoke. "Nightlight was afraid he might be a new form of some type, so we watched him to make certain he didn't hurt anyone."

Jack nodded, he probably would have made the same assumption based on the look of the guy. He really did look just like Pitch, only his clothes were less _'black coat'_ and more _'toga.'_

Two people were approaching: a slim, dark haired woman and a young girl who resembled her too much to be anything but her daughter. As they passed not-Pitch, he left his perch and followed them. He moved with the confidence of one who knew he couldn't be seen. Both of his stalkers stiffened.

The pair of humans were carrying fruit in a basket, and they stopped at a very fresh tomb to kneel in front of it and lay the food out. They stayed like that, their heads bowed.

When the dark Spirit reached his hand for them, Nightlight left his hiding spot to strike.

Jack had manoeuvred himself to get a good view, and when Kozmotis' hand passed through them, he saw the grief on the Spirit's face and understood.

Nightlight saw it and stopped as well, but it was too late. He had revealed himself, and Kozmotis looked none too pleased to see this strange child of light.

The sun was going down, and the shadows were long. Kozmotis slipped into them, reappearing behind the oblivious boy and creating an oversized curved weapon out of pure darkness which he raised to strike. He hesitated.

Suddenly Sandy was there. He did something to fast for Jack to see, and the next thing anyone knew, Kozmotis was sprawled on the ground with an angry Dreamweaver looming over him.

The dark Spirit crab-walked back and slowly rose to his feet. He was scowling until his eyes narrowed and were drawn behind Sandy. The older Spirit looked behind himself and winced.

The little girl was standing there, staring at him. He tried to smile and wave, but it did no good. She opened her mouth and screamed.

Her mother wrapped her arms around her and tried to sooth her, asking what was wrong, and the girl cried, _"I saw a God! He's come to eat me!"_

The woman nearly laughed. _"Come now baby, there's nothing there. You must have seen a trick of the sunset."_

_"No! He's there! I still see him. I want my Papa!"_

The mother's eyes were welling up as she held her daughter tighter. _"We talked about this, baby. He's gone. He's not coming back."_

Comprehension crossed Sandy's features as he watched this, and he turned to Kozmotis, who was staring at him in awe.

_"She can see you..." _said Kozmotis in a broken voice. _"How can she see you?"_

Sandy looked him up and down with sympathetic eyes, before lowering his brow in determination. He sent some sand to the two humans, causing them to slump over, asleep.

Not the wisest move.

_"What did you do?!" _Kozmotis screamed. He created another dark weapon, but before he could strike, Nightlight knocked him away with his staff.

The two of them clashed, and clearly being opposites, their weapons caused a minor explosion of shadows and light on contact. They were both thrown back, and immediately charged at each other again.

Only Sandy was there, like a rock between them. One hand held Nightlight by the wrist. The other gripped Kozmotis' throat.

The dark Spirit gulped. Sandy was shorter then him by only a few inches, and unlike his slight frame, the ancient warrior was pure muscle. He could no doubt feel the power coursing through that arm.

_"What... what are you?" _he asked shakily.

Sandy smirked and let him go, patting his cheek instead. He turned and gestured towards the other Spirit's family, telling him he should go to them.

Kozmotis took the suggestion and ran over to them. He kneeled beside their bodies, his hands hovering over them, not daring to touch them. He took note of the sand. _"I... I have seen this before. They're dreaming..." _The sand had taken his form. _"They're dreaming of me?"_

The sand dissipated, and the little girl's eyes started fluttering. She opened them, and after a few confused blinks, she smiled. _"Papa!" _She threw her arms around her frozen father's neck. _"I knew you'd come back!"_

The woman was awake now as well. _"Kozmotis?" _She was in shock as he drew her into the hug. _"H... how?"_

_"I don't know... I don't care..."_

Jack's eyes were bugging out as he watch this. He turned to Sandy and said, "You... You made them believe in him!"

Sandy smiled sadly at him. "I cannot _make _anyone do anything." He sighed. "I can only give them an image, offer a name. They have to make the leap of belief themselves."

Jack nodded in understanding. Sandy must have done the same thing for him, only it didn't work. It was the reason they knew the name Jack Frost, but could never see him.

The family embracing was truly a touching sight, and Jack knew that Sandy was right; this man was not Pitch Black. But the two observing Spirits were watching with such sadness. As happy as this was, they understood something that Jack himself was still struggling to come to terms with.

People die. Spirits don't.

Jack was putting everything together. This man wasn't Pitch now, but eventually he would be. Jack could remember the pain in Pitch's voice when he spoke of longing for a family, and the Winter Spirit knew now that it wasn't fake.

If loosing his family had caused Kozmotis to loose himself, to become Pitch... well... Jack wan't sure he could blame him.

* * *

**Before anyone asks, the people in South America aren't Incas or Mayans. This was way too long ago and they didn't exist yet. **


End file.
